


The Prude

by Snapes_Godess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Oral Sex, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22246384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapes_Godess/pseuds/Snapes_Godess
Summary: The war is over and things are changing. As wizarding numbers begin to dwindle and the powers that be are pressed to insure population growth AND an end to blood politics.  The result, marriage laws.  Witches and wizards are matched based on characteristics that will assure a future of mixed blood witches and wizards who are exceptional in every way.Hermione finds herself matched with Lucius Malfoy.  The question is, can she get past the wall of propriety that shields the prudish and proper wizard?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 81
Kudos: 649





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written and previously posted on AFF back in 2009. It has not been edited or modified from its original version, flaws and all. 
> 
> This is a work of fanfiction, no money was made from the sharing of this fic. All recognizable entities are property of JKR and WB.
> 
> Welcome to a tale that is unusual for the typical Lumione story. I shall not give it away just yet, but please continue without the normal expectations =) open your mind and let the story unfold….

The Prude  
By: Snapes_Goddess 

  
In the offices of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic…..

Hermione J. Granger sat stiffly in a leather chair strategically placed in front of the desk belonging to the most powerful entity in the wizarding world. She stared across the glossy surface at a man who she considered a friend, a man she had fought side by side with during the war, a man she trusted and admired, a man who held her future in his hands. She kept her spine straight, shoulders back, legs crossed at the ankle and knees together as was proper for a young lady, but inside she was swearing like a cockney sailor on shore leave.

With her teeth clenched tightly behind her insincere smile she took deep, even breaths through her nose in an attempt to calm her thundering pulse. She could feel the twin spots of color heating her cheeks but there was nothing to be done for it so she concentrated on focusing her attention to the matter at hand. Standing next to Kingsley was his Assistant Minister Arthur Weasley and their Undersecretary Percy Weasley, all three of them wore similar helpless expressions as they stared at her, waiting for her to say something. 

She turned her head slightly to stare at the man seated in the chair to her right. Lucius Malfoy did not appear to be faring any better than she in that moment. His already pale skin seemed to pale further, the indignant bloom in his cheeks the only spot of real color. His lips were bloodless and colorless as he pressed them tightly together. He too turned his head slowly and met her gaze, his silver eyes sparking with barely restrained fury, not at her, but at the situation. Both of them turned their attention back to the men safely situated behind the desk without speaking to each other. 

To her left, seated on a long sofa situated along the wall, were her closest friends, Ron and Harry, both aurors and no doubt called in for the sole purpose of keeping her in check when the news was delivered. Perched on the sofa with them was Draco Malfoy who had accompanied his father to the meeting. All three of them were trembling with barely contained laughter. In that moment she hated them, all of them, but she would deal with them later, first she had to deal with the uncomfortable position she now found herself in. For some inexplicable reason the Ministry of Magic was forcing her to marry the man who tried and nearly succeeded, to kill her. 

“I am afraid I don’t understand,” she said softly, her voice quavering only slightly as she struggled to remain calm. Kingsley folded his hands together and rested them lightly on the blotter in front of him, twiddling his thumbs nervously as he watched her warily. She was far too calm and it worried him. Not that he expected her to throw a tantrum or go into hysterics, that just wasn’t her, but her cold and mature manner concerned him. 

“You are aware that the new Wizarding Parliament passed the law that pure bloodlines were to be diluted to end the discrimination and abolish ‘blood’ politics.” Kingsley swallowed hard and fought the urge to shift in his chair. “Wizards and witches who were already married or betrothed were given an exemption from this edict, since Lucius was already married to Narcissa Black and you were engaged to Auror Weasley you did not fall under the jurisdiction of this law at the time it was passed.” He rolled his shoulders to ease the weight bearing down on him beneath the icy stares of the couple across the table. “Now that Lucius is widowed these past two years and your marriage called off that is no longer the case.” 

“I am afraid that I still do not understand, Minister,” Lucius drawled tightly, his words careful and precise. “That law did not involve matchmaking as I recall. Why are we being ordered to wed?” 

“That began as an experiment I am afraid. It seems that during a sociological study it was found that discrimination and blood politicking were still very much alive within our community. Families were seeking out matches for their pureblood offspring among those of only slightly diluted bloodlines. Loyalties and old grudges still being brought into play,” Kingsley could feel the anticipation tickling up his spine as he explained. “When a photograph of the two of you speaking at a fundraiser appeared in the Prophet it created a bit of a tizzy in session I am afraid. It was decided that you, as a couple, would be the perfect public faces for enforcing this law. Enemies, soldiers on opposing sides, together, side by side bringing in a more peaceful, integrated future for the wizarding world.”

“I don’t see how this is legal, Kingsley,” she said, her fingers beginning to bunch in the fabric of her skirt. 

“Once a motion is set before the parliament and is seconded it has to be voted on, in this case it was seconded and voted almost unanimously ‘yay’. I was the only ‘nay’,” Kingsley said softly. 

“Simply overrule the vote. Veto it.” Lucius said firmly. 

“I can’t do that, I am afraid,” Kingsley said as he sat up straight and let his hands fall into his lap, he wanted to be able to grab his wand quickly if he needed to defend himself. “Extensive studies were done on your DNA and magical signatures. It seems that every one of them came back indicating a perfect match, a perfect blending of two entities. Your children will be exceptional and can lead the way to the society we hope to achieve with these sorts of laws. If I had seen those results before the vote then it would have been unanimous. Parliament’s decision stands. You will wed within thirty days from today.”

“If we refuse?” Hermione queried curiously.

“Then you forfeit your wand as well as your memories of this world. You will be obliviated and relocated into the muggle world,” Percy informed them, his expression hinting that he may be enjoying the situation more than he should. Hermione wondered if it was because she refused his advances after Ron broke up with her. 

“Well, that is unfortunate,” Lucius said quietly, darkly. “So we are sentenced to a marriage of convenience so that we may be the face of your future “Utopia” or stripped of our magical heritage for no other reason than we are well known and unattached? The Dark Lord had a similar sense of justice, he had no qualms about using others unfairly to further his own ideals either. I thought that my life was free of such abuse.”

“I am afraid that you are mistaken, Mr. Malfoy,” Percy said with a smirk. “This is not to be a marriage of convenience, it must be consummated within forty eight hours of taking your vows else you will be found in contempt of an official court order.”

“Are you kidding me? The ministry is going to make us have sex?” Hermione asked incredulously, ignoring the sniggering coming from behind her. She looked over to see Lucius glaring at the men across from them and felt an odd camaraderie with him, after all, it looked as though they were in the mess together.

“The population was sorely diminished during the war, we want to rebuild our numbers with mixed blood witches and wizards, sex is necessary,” Percy said smugly. “If there are...performance issues….we can certainly provide you with the necessary potions to aid you in your procreative interaction.”

“You are very rude and I do not appreciate your snide little comments, Weasley,” Lucius sneered. Percy lost a bit of his arrogance and took a step back under the infuriated glare of the blond wizard. “How is it that the ministry thinks they have the right to dictate a couple’s sexual activity? What have we done to deserve such treatment?”

“Try not to think of it as a punishment, Mr. Malfoy,” Kingsley said. “You get a young wife, she’s lovely, intelligent and famous, you get to earn the ministry’s favor and you get to secure your legacy by producing children that are destined to be amazing witches and wizards, it’s a winning arrangement!”

Hermione wasn’t sure what had her angrier, her lack of control over the situation or their apparent lack of respect for them as individuals. The ministry was known for meddling in people’s lives, they were a government body like any other, but they were going too far this time and unfortunately there wasn’t a damned thing that could be done about it unless she wanted to give up the life she had made for herself.

“The Parliament fully expected the two of you to be resistant and difficult about this…so they came up with a manifest of marriage requirements. Court ordered requirements, failure to fulfill them is in contempt of a court order,” Percy said, his voice just a little bit hoarse and less confident than before. “You are ordered to share the same domicile, you will remain faithful to your spouse and are expected to reproduce within a reasonable amount of time. Both of you were found to be fertile so to ensure the fulfillment of the reproduction clause you are required by law to copulate no less than three times per week until a child is conceived. No potions or contraception of the muggle variety may be used as a preventative measure. Failure to follow these orders is a direct violation of the court and punishable by law.”

“Just how do you plan to enforce this? Will we have a witness present during copulation?” Lucius ignored the snorts of laughter from his son and her friends and continued to stare down the three men behind the desk.

“A modified ward of sorts will be placed on you during your wedding ceremony, failure to complete the requirements will alert the ministry and you will be given notice to … amend your over sight,” Arthur spoke for the first time, his face flushed.

“I see,” Hermione said quietly, smoothing the wrinkles that she had placed in her skirt. “So, the ministry has decided that two people, who are not in love, who barely know one another in fact, are to be married and used as an example for the rest of the wizarding world. We are expected to have children, regardless of whether or not we have a desire for them, because they will be brilliant half bloods to bring in the next generation of wizarding society. Is that right?”

“I believe that if you look at this from our perspective…” Kingsley could see the fire in her eyes and knew that he was in trouble. He may be the most powerful man in the wizarding world but he was nothing in the face of an angry witch.

“From your perspective? You are forcing us to wed without a care to our wishes. You are dictating our sex lives! You are actually ordering us to fuck on a schedule!” She didn’t care that her crass language cause shocked gasps from the men across from her, nor did she respond to the laughter of her friends. “Tell me, Kingsley, does the court have any preferences as to HOW we screw? Is there a proposed ratio of missionary position versus woman on top? Is there a set number of blowjobs expected in a week’s time? What about anal sex, does the ministry have a schedule for that as well?” She spoke so calmly, with such eloquence in her delivery that it was difficult to believe she was speaking with such vulgarity. 

“Hell if she does anal I’ll marry her!” Draco quipped, earning a frown from his father and a smirk from Hermione.

“We will leave the details to your discretion so long as the terms are being met,” Kingsley said. “If you have anything you would like to add now would be the time before you sign.”

“I have a few things to add,” Hermione said tightly. “He will NOT physically or emotionally abuse me, he will not control me and if I am going to be forced to bed him and only him I want it in the contract that he will see to my personal needs diligently and to the best of his ability.” The guffaws from the trio on the couch were hard to ignore as they had become a cocophany of shocked and amused wheezes and coughs sprinkled among the choking laughter.

“You want a…an orgasm guarantee?” Percy choked. Hermione smiled smugly and looked over at Lucius. His expression was a mixture of amusement and incredulity at her cheek. 

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I will do my part to satisfy the terms of this farce and to satisfy the wizard you wish to bind me to for life so I expect him to do the same, and knowing just how slippery Lucius can be I want it in writing just to be safe.”

“Cheeky witch,” Lucius smirked.

“I also want to retain my last name, I will use the name Granger-Malfoy for professional reasons so as not to confuse my contacts,” she said.

“I’m afraid that your work here in the ministry is another area we must cover,” Arthur said, biting his lip nervously. “You see…there is a policy in place that convicted felons cannot be employed by the ministry… nor can their immediate family. You will be required to step down from your position as head of the Department For the Care of Magical Creatures.”

“So not only do I lose my freedom of choice but I lose the career I have built for myself as well?” She said softly, her voice laced with venom. “Tell me, how is this in any way to my favor? I have done nothing wrong, I am an upstanding, law abiding witch who does good in the community and lives a quiet, peaceful life. How is this fair to me? How is this fair to Lucius for that matter? I might not be his biggest fan but as far as I can tell he has done nothing wrong in the years since the war. Why us?”

“Because you are truly exceptional, powerful people and with great power comes great responsibility and that means sacrificing for the greater good,” Kingsley said.

“Watching muggle films again, Kingsley? If you recall Peter Parker’s uncle was killed shortly after that little speech,” Hermione snapped. 

“I know you are angry, both of you, but you will see in the end that this is a good thing, I am sure of it.” Kingsley sat back and stared at Lucius for a moment. “You have been strangley calm, Lucius, I expected hexes a plenty.”

“I find myself without words to express the injustice of this situation and oddly fascinated by it at the same time,” he said. “I have learned from experience that it does no good to argue with the government so I am resigned to my fate, as always.”

“Do you have stipulations that you wish to document in the marriage contract?” Percy asked.

“I’d ask for daily blowjobs and bi-weekly anal,” Draco muttered, causing another chorus of laughter from Potter and Weasley. 

“I think sexual activity was more than covered, I do wish to stipulate that she may NOT free my servants nor release any of my livestock back into the wild. She may redecorate the house within reason but may not make any structural changes to my ancestral home. “ Lucius looked over at her, meeting her eyes briefly before turning back to the men on the other side of the desk. “Anything else we can work out between us as we go along.”

“Very good, then I need for you to both sign at the bottom,” Percy slid a quill and ink pot towards them. Lucius signed his name with an elegant flourish of flowing letters that looked rather pretty next to Hermione’s simple, bubbly scrawl. The document glowed for a moment as the legal bond took and the contract was sealed.

“There we have it,” Kingsley said, sliding the parchment into his desk drawer. “I guess I will leave the wedding plans up to the two of you. You have 30 days. Congratulations.”


	2. Chapter 2

****

**Chapter Two: Mrs. Malfoy**

“I can’t believe you are about to become Mrs. Lucius Malfoy…it’s so weird,” Ginny said as she pinned a small veil into the back of Hermione’s hair. 

“That makes two of us,” Hermione said, wincing when one of the combs teeth scraped across her scalp. She had tried to find a loophole, had searched for it day and night but found nothing that would save her from her fate. For better or for worse, and she was leaning towards worse, Lucius Malfoy was going to be her husband.

“I suppose it could be worse…you could have wound up with Goyle,” Ginny said, searching for a silver lining.

“He is handsome, which is going to be a major plus since I have to sleep with the man,” Hermione leaned towards the mirror and wiped gently at her cheeks to blend the blusher she felt had been applied with too heavy a hand. 

“Gods, you have to have _sex_ with Lucius Malfoy, a death eater! I just can’t believe it,” Ginny said as she fluffed curls that needed no fluffing. Hermione’s hair always did have and always would have a mind of it’s own.

“Well, he IS very attractive, so I’m not exactly dreading the fact that I have to see him naked,” Hermione said, winking at Ginny’s reflection in the mirror.

“Oh! I forgot about the naked part!” Ginny laughed. 

“Oh, I didn’t!” Hermione snorted as she stared at her reflection. She had a simple champagne colored gown with an empire waist and tiny capped sleeves. Elbow length gloves and the small veil completed the simple yet elegant look and she couldn’t help but think that she looked rather pretty for a change. “I look like a bride.”

“You _are_ a bride,” Ginny said quietly, resting her chin on Hermione’s shoulder. “Can you be happy married to him?”

“I’ll find a way,” she said. “I may not be in love with him but I will figure out some way to make my life with him work.”

“I guess if any one can make it work it would be you,” Ginny sighed. 

“I may not have a choice about marrying Lucius, but I do have a choice in how I handle it,” she said. “And I plan to set Malfoy Manor on its ear.”

****

**~ @ ~**

“Your tie is crooked,”Draco said, watching his father dress for the ceremony.

“No it isn’t,” Lucius frowned at his son as he shrugged into his robes. He couldn’t believe that he was once again being leg-shackled to a witch chosen for him by someone else. First it was his parents and now the ministry, and to make it worse he had a child with a demented sense of humor whose favorite pastime was annoying the hell out of him. 

“No, it’s not, but you are vain enough to look anyhow,” Draco smiled.

“You look nice, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck, not quite sure what to say to the older man.

“Of course I do, these robes are custom cut,” he scoffed as he pinned the lily boutonniere to his lapel.

“So…are you ready to consummate this sham of a marriage?” Draco was leaning back on an ornate sofa, his arm draped along the curved back. 

“As ready as any man on his wedding night,” Lucius replied off handedly. 

“But she put it in your marriage contract that you had to please her, or at least make every attempt to,” Draco smirked, “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” he said, reaching into his pocket to check the rings. 

“Um…no offense, Mr. Malfoy, but I was with Hermione for three years,” Ron said from the sofa. “She’s…well, she’s a handful.”

“I’m certain I can handle it,” he said. 

“Just…well, just don’t…don’t underestimate her,” Ron said. 

“I was married for nearly thirty years, Mr. Weasley, I think I know how to handle a wife,” Lucius said with one last glance at his reflection.

****

**~ @ ~**

Hermione wondered what her parents would say if they could see her now, about to walk down the aisle and pledge herself to a man she loathed because she could not bear to live without her magic. It was what they had feared years ago when they had debated the decision to allow her to go off to Hogwarts once they had gotten over the fact that their daughter was a witch. They never understood that using her magic wasnt a choice, it was just a natural thing, a part of her, an important part of her that she wasnt willing to walk away from. She was a little sad that they couldnt be with her on her wedding day, regardless of the fact that she wasnt exactly bursting with love for the groom. A car accident had made her an orphan years before and now Harry and the Weasley's stood in as her family. 

She had come to realize during her futile search for an exploitable loophole that she was but a single woman in a long history of women who wed men not of their choice. For centuries women had been married off for business, to settle debts, to unite families and countries, to end wars and even to cover secrets. If she looked at it as a transaction it was somewhat easier to deal with; she would marry Lucius Malfoy to hopefully usher in a better future for all of wizard-kind. Though she wasnt certain that their marriage would have the result that the Ministry hoped. Blood feuding went way back and the angry waters ran deep, it would take more than a 'trophy' marriage to end it all. Part of her wanted to blame Lucius, that irrational part of her that liked to drag out old, dirty laundry and roll around in it, but she knew that it wasnt his fault. He was just as much of a victim as she was. Her only option was to try and make the best of it. To try and find a way to make it work, to make a life for the two of them that was, if nothing else, civil. 

"Ready?" She looked over to her left at Harry, poor, clueless Harry with his messy hair and crooked tie. 

"As ready as I'll ever be," she answered. 

"Good, let's get this over with, I'm starving!" She looked to her right at Ron, her first love and dear friend. She had to smile when she saw him sneak a bit of jerky from his pocket. She heard the soft intrumentals of the string quartet playing the traditional wedding march and felt the butterflies in her tummy kick into action. The tall double doors opened and Hermione watched the large congregation of witches and wizards rise. Flanked by the two people she loved the most she made her way slowly down the long aisle towards the man that was chosen for her by strangers. Chosen for her by a governing body who knew nothing about them as people aside from what they could read in a report, by people who wanted to use them to make a point. They didnt care if they made one another miserable, if they didnt suit or didnt find each other attractive, they only cared about the image they could provide. 

A muggleborn and a pureblood, married, as the ministry expected. 

"Who gives this witch to be married?" the officiant asked. 

"We do," Ron and Harry said simultaneously before kissing her cheeks lightly and stepping into line behind Draco who was standing beside his father. Lucius stepped forward and offered her his arm, guiding her up the three small steps that led to the dais. She couldnt recall a single word of the officient's speech, her ears buzzing as her head swam with the realization of what she was doing. She was choosing magic over happiness, over love and she couldnt find it in herself to regret it. What did that say about her as a person, as a woman? What did it say about her prorities? She somehow managed to repeat her vows, to pledge herself to a man she barely knew and slide a thick platinum band onto his finger though she had no recollection as to how her own finger came to be adorned with an extravagant emerald wedding set. The entire wedding ceremony was a blur until the end. The end she heard very clearly when the officient pronounced them wizard and wife and informed them that it was time to seal their union with a kiss.

She had forgotten that part....

How in the hell had she forgotten that part?

She swallowed hard and tried not to shake when the much taller wizard bent down and pressed his lips lightly to hers. A little shock nipped them both when their lips touched as if they had been scooting across the carpet in their socks to build up static electricity. They both jerked, their eyes narrowing in confusion as they stared at one another while their guests cheered and applauded.

"That was strange," she said softly.

"So it was," he replied, recalling their location and pulling himself out of his confusion so that he could lead her back down the aisle and through the double doors.

(The wedding wasn’t really important to the story, but I felt I had to transition into the uber smut that’s coming =) )


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Honeymoon 

In a posh hotel in the south of France, sequestered in the royal suite on the very top floor, the newlyweds stood face to face. It was nearly midnight by the time the wedding reception had come to a close. Ridiculous amounts of food and libation had been consumed by friends and family and a large number of individuals that neither the bride nor groom had any sort of acquaintance with whatsoever. They had shared a stiff, rather uncomfortable waltz and then spent the majority of the evening flittering about the crowd talking to their guests.

They both seemed to be trying to delay the inevitable. The party WAS going to end and eventually they would have no choice but to face the truth…they were married and the ministry expected their marriage to be consummated, sooner rather than later. They had readied themselves for bed in silence, taking turns in the bathroom and then meeting in the center of the room in front of the fireplace. Lucius was wearing only his royal blue dressing gown and Hermione a slip of silver satin edged in delicate French lace that barely reached mid-thigh.

“This feels strange,” she said. Her fingers were toying with the hem of her gown. The little negligee was supposed to entice but Lucius hadn’t bothered to even look at it, not that she had noticed anyhow, his gaze seem firmly affixed to the wall behind her head.

“Yes, well, we are for the most part strangers,” he said, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point.

“Strangers have sex all the time,” she countered, biting her lip and finding herself oddly curious about the little shock that passed between them during the ceremony. Would it happen again when they made love? Lucius cleared his throat and adjusted the sash on his robe.

“You should get in the bed and prepare yourself, I will give you a few moments before joining you,” he said tightly.

“What do you mean by prepare myself? Are you going to do something freaky to me?” she asked, her brows arched so high that they threatened to disappear into her hairline.

“Of course not! I simply wanted to give you the opportunity to settle between the sheets and remove any barriers that might prevent me from doing my husbandly duties,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

She almost laughed, almost, but then she realized that it wasn’t some sort of joke. He was serious. She was well aware that the wizarding world fell way behind the times socially speaking. They were very much stuck in a Victorian time warp when it came to their traditions, beliefs and social hierarchy but she couldn’t help the shock that raced through her. She had, apparently incorrectly, assumed that a hedonist like Lucius Malfoy would indulge in regular, probably kinky sex. She was a bit disappointed to be honest and at the same time intrigued. 

“Um…so let me get this straight…you want me to get in bed, lift my gown and spread my legs, correct?” she asked incredulously. Two bright spots of color bloomed on his pale cheeks and he shifted uncomfortably.

“That would probably be the most accommodating course of action,” he said hoarsely.

“Alright…how do you plan to do this so that you don’t hurt me since you obviously have no intentions of engaging in foreplay?” She found the odd situation more and more fascinating.

“I have made preparations…there are…supplies in the bedside table, I will not hurt you,” he said. His expression was so uncomfortable that he looked as if he were being tortured. She wished she had known that a simple conversation about sex was all it took to discomfit the death eater back during the war, it could have been a valuable tool.

“Lubricant? You signed a marriage contract that vowed you would make sure I am satisfied with our sexual relationship.”

“A woman’s body is the field in which her husband sows his seed, by planting my seed inside you it should more than satisfy you,” he said. She did laugh then because she just couldn’t believe that she had been so wrong. Here she had been fantasizing that the arrogant peacock was a sensualist and borderline sexual deviant when all along he was nothing but a prude. 

She was sad for him, he couldn’t have had a very fulfilling marriage if his notions about marital relations were so antiquated. Unless it had nothing to do with his personal predilections and everything to do with her blood.

“Is this because I am a muggleborn?” she asked. He sighed in frustration and frowned, but still did not actually look at her.

“Is what because you are muggleborn?” he asked in exasperation.

“So…you really want me to just lift my gown and let you pound away between my legs for a few minutes and then roll over and go to sleep?” Hysterical laughter erupted from deep inside her and she could barely contain herself.

“May we please commence? The hour grows increasingly late as you stand here in hysterics,” he scoffed.

“Are you especially tired?” she asked, wiping an amused tear from her eye.

“Not particularly, I think that I may have over indulged in the champagne, I find myself wide awake,” he frowned as if he were troubled by this news.

“That’s great because you and I are going to have a little chat,” she said still chuckling. “Have a seat, Lucius.” 

With his brow furrowed in confusion and his lips tight he settled into a large chair in front of the fire while his bride of only a few hours sat on the ottoman as primly as her negligee would permit. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and stared at him for a few moments while he stared at the flames dancing in the hearth. She began to see some potential in her marriage and for the first time the potential to help him become the perfect lover for her.

“I don’t want to pry…and I don’t want to cause you pain but…what was your sex life like in your previous marriage?” she asked, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for him to either answer or hex her.

“I don’t see how it’s your business,” he said sharply, looking at her for only a moment.

“Okay….why do you think married couples have sex?” she tried again.

“For children,” he answered simply. 

“Okay…what about people who do it without the intention of having a child….why do they have sex?” she asked.

“Because they are base, uneducated heathens who can not control themselves and have nothing else of importance in their mediocre lives so they rut like beasts in order to fill the time.” His answer had her smirking. It was such an elitist thing to say, so typical of that famous Malfoy arrogance.

“Haven’t you ever done it just because it feels good?” 

“It always feels good,” he snorted. “But just because something feels good doesn’t mean you should indulge in it in excess.”

“Alright…I’m going to go on the assumption that you slept with your previous wife with the intent to procreate and with no other agenda. But didn’t you have a mistress?” she asked, beginning to feel a bit hopeless in her quest.

“I had too much respect for my wife to embarrass her that way, besides, I am far too busy a wizard to waste time dallying with loose women,” he said as he withdrew his wand and used it to acquire a sifter of brandy.

“What about when you were young? Surely you had girlfriends…”

“I was contracted to wed Narcissa at the age of thirteen, I did not waste my youth as so many of you do today drinking myself sick and fornicating with everything that moves. I was preparing to take my place as head of the family, to run the family businesses and manage the estate.” He took great offense to her prying, he felt defensive as though she were accusing him of doing something wrong. 

“I don’t mean to offend you, Lucius, but…well, you see, the thing is…I like sex. I like it a lot. I love to touch and be touched, to be held and have naughty words whispered in my ears. I especially love kissing,” she said softly. “Don’t you like to kiss?”

“For what purpose?”

“Because it’s exciting, it’s intimate and arousing, it feels good,” she said.

“Arousal is easy enough to achieve for a male, we do not need to waste time with kissing in order to perform….”

“But arousal is not easily achieved for a woman. We require more in order to actually enjoy it, in order to achieve orgasm.” Lucius began to say something and Hermione immediately cut him off. “If you even think about claiming the female orgasm to be a myth I will hex you on the spot.” 

He clamped his mouth closed tightly and watched her shake her head in disbelief. His little wife was most certainly a bold little bit of baggage. He had never in his life had such an inappropriate conversation with a female. It made him uncomfortable and feel more than a little inadequate. 

“Surely you haven’t only had sex with your former wife…I mean, sex for pleasure alone is not a new concept, Lucius, there is a reason why prostitution is called ‘the world’s oldest profession’. Didn’t you make-out and pet when you were at school? Didn’t you ever go to a brothel….”

“Not every man is lead around by the appendage between his legs, Hermione,” he snapped, irritated by the conversation. “And just so that we may end this ridiculous conversation, the fact is that the way a man treats a…loose woman, is NOT how a man treats his wife!”

So that was the crux of it then? He believed that a wife should be treated differently, placed upon a pedestal, was a creature to be pampered and protected. No wonder pureblood women were such cranky cows, they were sexually frustrated!

“Lucius, I’m not asking you to treat me like a whore…”

“I’d certainly hope not!” he looked horrified and she held back her laughter.

“You and I are being forced into this marriage, forced into sharing a bed. I just think, that given our lack of choice in how we got here we should try to make the best of it, to find a way to be happy together, in and out of the bedroom.” She watched his face and realized how expressive it actually was as he processed his thoughts, his eyes especially. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what he was doing giving in to her badgering, all he knew was that he had spent thirty years with a woman in a marriage that lacked…something…and he wasn’t exactly keen on enduring the same fate in his second marriage. What if, by letting her lead to a certain extent, he could actually find some enjoyment in marriage this time around?

“Well, to start with,” she stood up and moved from the ottoman to settle herself on his lap, her legs draping over the arm of his chair and her arms looping around his neck. “You need to let go of this idea that sex should only be done in the dark between the sheets of a bed.”

He shifted uncomfortably at having her in his lap, her soft, round bottom was nestled against his groin and having a rather obvious affect. He hadn’t had another person sit on his lap since Draco had been a child, never had a grown woman perched herself upon his person in such a way.

“And just where would you suggest that we engage in such activities?” he winced when his voice broke just a little.

“Anywhere we want to,” she whispered, running her tongue over her bottom lip and finally getting his eyes focused on her. “What do you like about women, Lucius?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, swallowing hard and trying not to be embarrassed by his randy cock poking into her bottom. 

“When you look at women what is it about them that turns you on? Do you like legs, breasts, a woman’s backside?” She slid her fingers through the hair at his temples, a simple gesture by any standards yet it sent a rather unusual tremor down his spine. 

“Ahem…well…the women of my acquaintance generally are modestly dressed, covered from throat to ankles.” His voice was hoarse and he was having trouble resisting the urge to close his eyes and lean his head into her touch like a feline desperate for affection. 

“Well…what about me? Here I am draped across your lap with only a scrap of material covering me…do you like anything about me?” She knew that her question was like a loaded gun pointed at her self esteem but she could feel that he wasn’t completely indifferent to her. She knew that she would never be as beautiful as Narcissa had been, but from what she could manage to piece together by the odd conversation to start her wedding night, she was going to be able to bring him something more valuable than simple beauty. She was going to be able to bring passion into his life, desire and a little excitement and maybe, someday, happiness.

“Your lips,” he said, his body starting a little when he realized how easily he had blurted his answer. He hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t taken a single moment to glance over the body she so willingly displayed for him. He could see that she too appeared surprised by his declaration.

“No one has ever said that to me before,” she said softly. “Usually they make some comment about my breasts or my rear end. Lucius….you do like women don’t you?” She needed to be certain before she continued, she didn’t want to beat her head against a brick wall if Lucius wasn’t heterosexual.

“OF COURSE I LIKE WOMEN!” he bellowed, startling her out of her thoughts as he tried to lunge from the chair and dislodge her from his lap.

“Okay…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you…please,” she laid her hand against his cheek and held his gaze for a moment. “I apologize…I just…don’t take this wrong but I am shocked to find you so…well…inexperienced.”

“I’m not inexperienced, I shared a bed with my first wife for thirty years!” he was angry and embarrassed and the little termagant still seated upon his thighs was to blame for it. Why couldn’t she just act like a normal wife and lie down so he could get it over with?

“But surely you know there is more to it than inserting tab A into slot B, what you had was years of passionless couplings in a cold bed for no other reason than trying to make a child,” she said, trying to keep her voice soft and less aggressive. “You and I may not be friends, we may not ever come to love one another, but we can have more than that, we can have a very passionate, fulfilling marriage if you would just set your misconceptions about sex on the back burner for a bit.” He eased a little but she was still very much aware of the fact that he was agitated. “Just…trust me and I promise you will be very satisfied with this marriage, Lucius.”

“Do you have any inkling as to how odd this entire evening is? I find it uncomfortable and more than a little humiliating to be honest,” he huffed, nose in the air. 

“I’m sorry that you were forced to marry me, Lucius. I am sorry that we are being forced to share a bed but I have accepted this for what it is, a situation that simply can not be changed. But I don’t see why we have to be miserable about it, why we can not find some enjoyment in each other, even if that enjoyment IS purely physical,” she said. “I find you very attractive,” she dropped the tone of her voice to a husky purr and once more ruffled the silky strands of hair at his temples. “Your silky hair,” she trailed her fingers to his brow and traced the silver arch, “Your beautiful silver eyes,” she let her fingertips feather over his nose and lips then down so that she could stroke the line of his throat and slide her hand inside his robe. His skin was silky smooth and scalding hot to the touch when she ran her palm over his chest and over his shoulder, enjoying the feel of hot, chorded muscle beneath her caress. “You have a very fine body, Lucius.”

He was panting, sharp little puffs of air through his nose as he tried to cope with the feel of her hands on his body so unexpectedly. Narcissa had never touched him so intimately. During their entire marriage she kept intimacy at a minimum. During sex her hands were often at her side, on the rare occasion she might rest them upon his shoulders. He certainly couldn’t recall a single incident where she had stroked his chest the way his current wife was doing. He found it rather…stimulating. He even liked the way her fingers felt in his hair and he wasn’t a man who liked his hair to be mussed. Ever. 

“Thank you?” He wasn’t sure what the proper response was to a compliment to one’s form. 

“So…you like my lips? What about them do you like?” she asked, smirking a little at having to guide a grown man through a seduction.

“Well…they are a lovely color without being coated in that ridiculous lip rouge and they look soft, plump…and when you speak they are a bit….hypnotizing,” he said thickly, watching the subject of conversation closely as he spoke.

“What a lovely thing to say, Lucius,” she whispered. “What do you think about when you look at my lips? What do you imagine them doing?”

“Smiling at me,” he answered without thinking. Hermione gasped, her heart skipping just a little at such a vulnerable response from a man she thought invulnerable. 

“Do you think about kissing me? Having me kiss you? Do you think about me running them over your skin…taking you in my mouth?” she asked huskily, able to clearly feel his cock pulsing beneath her backside.

“Wives do not do such things,” he croaked, his head filled with decadent images. She smiled at him, a soft, sweet smile and lowered her head so that her lips brushed his ear.

“This wife does…if you want her to,” she whispered as she took his earlobe between her teeth and nibbled lightly. She heard his softly gasped curse and smiled. “Don’t you want to kiss me, Lucius?” 

“Should I?” he asked distractedly, his eyes still on the set of lips that had him completely enthralled. Hermione found his interest in her lips to be amusing and rather flattering. She also found his lack of a decent sexual history to be rather exciting. She was going to open his eyes to a whole new world.

“Allow me,” she said softly, cupping the back of his head as she lowered hers. She bumped his nose gently with hers and then brushed her lips lightly back and forth for a moment before pressing more firmly. He stiffened when the tip of her tongue tickled along the seam of his lips and then, curious, parted them to allow the persistent little marauder entrance to his mouth. Her tongue played alongside his with teasing strokes that were enticing and not invasive. She teased and tickled, coaxing his tongue to join in the playful tussle. 

He gasped and then groaned when she nibbled on his lips, using her teeth and sucking gently. It was heavenly. A low vibration began to tingle along her spine, her breath becoming labored and her sex beginning to dampen and swell. They had chemistry, no doubt about that. Lucius kissed as he did everything, with pure elegance and grace. 

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Rather nice,” he replied hoarsely, his breath catching when she nuzzled the underside of his jaw right near his ear. The soft lips that captured his attention were raining soft, wet little kisses along his throat, her teeth nibbling at the chorded tendons. “Very nice,” his head fell back against the chair as his wife sucked firmly at the pulse pounding just below his Adam’s apple. 

“Mmmm…you smell good, Lucius,” she purred against his skin, licking the warm, slightly rough column of his throat. Her hands left his shoulders to slide down between them finding the knotted sash of his dressing gown. With a few quick tugs she had the knot loosened and was impatiently pulling the fabric open. “Pull your arms out,” she murmured, shoving the robe off of his shoulders as he shifted his arms free. 

“You’re bossy,” he groaned when her teeth sank into the muscle where shoulder and neck met.

“I don’t play games, Lucius,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “You don’t have to play guessing games with me, I’ll let you know what I like, what I want, what I need and I want you to do the same. If we are honest with each other we can be really happy.” 

“Honest….”

“I know it’s a frightening notion for you but with a little practice I am certain you can get a feel for it,” she chuckled. “Now…touch me.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want,” she said. “Here, let me make myself more…accessible to you.” She wiggled and shifted until she was straddling him in the chair, her knees sinking into the thick cushion and her bottom resting on his thighs. The change in position not only made her more accessible to him but it made _him_ far more accessible as well.

His erection was long, thick and hard as a rock lying heavily against his lower stomach. Her eyes widened in surprise and then her lips curved up in a smile that he could only define as feral. 

“Oh, Lucius,” she said on a breathy little moan that made his cock bounce excitedly against his belly. “That is a thing of beauty.” She reached out for him but he grabbed her wrist, halting her before her fingertips could even graze his aching length.

“Maybe you shouldn’t….it’s been awhile…” he croaked. He wanted to feel her touch but knew that if she so much as laid a single finger on him he would come and the most intriguing night of his life would be over too soon.

“Okay,” she said quietly, twisting her wrist in his hand until it was she who was holding him. “How about you touch me?” She held him by the wrist and brought his fingertips up to trace her lips. His hands were soft, his nails short and filed smooth. She could guess that he indulged in frequent manicures, his nails looked better than hers. She dragged his fingertips down from her lips, over her chin and along the front of her throat to the furrow of her cleavage. 

“Your skin is so soft…like velvet,” he said as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Did you expect scales?” she teased lightly as she pressed his palm around the curve of one breast. 

“No…gods, so soft,” he half groaned half whispered as he cupped her and gently kneaded the resilient flesh of her breast. The tiny bead of her nipple perked up and pressed into his palm and he watched in fascination as the other nipple peaked and pressed against the shiny fabric of her gown. She crossed her arms over her torso and grabbed the lacy hem of her gown and with one quick, fluid movement pulled it up and over her head, tossing it behind her with a careless flick of her wrist. “Merlin!” he gasped.

Inches and inches of perfect, creamy white skin was bared for his viewing pleasure. She even threw her hair back over his shoulders so that he could get an unobstructed view. He was a man who enjoyed beautiful things, he liked beautiful clothing, beautiful furniture, beautiful vistas and art…he wasn’t expecting that the sight of his young, muggleborn wife’s naked body to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. She was all smooth curves and creamy soft skin colored lightly with shades of pink and peach. 

Little golden peach freckles dotted her shoulders, and deep pink nipples topped the creamy mounds of her breasts. Her belly was soft and the shadowed sphere of her navel drew his fingertips lower, unable to resist tracing the little indentation. He watched the muscles of her abdomen tighten and wondered if it was a good reaction or a bad one when she wrapped both hands around his wrist. He somehow expected her to pull his hands away from her, to tell him that he was behaving indecently as any pureblood woman would. He would soon learn that he should never put such expectations on Hermione, he was realizing, pleasantly so, that she was unique.

“Touch me lower,” she rasped, sliding his hand down so that his fingers curved over the smooth mound of her sex where he was welcomed by steamy slickness. Using her hands she guided his fingers between the passion plumped lips to slide over her dew coated flesh. “Oh yes…right there!” she gasped as he stroked her clit using her own fluid to lubricate his touch. She released his wrist, letting him touch her as he pleased while she braced her hands on his chest and rocked her hips back and forth, aiding his questing fingers. 

“My god, you are so…wet!” He was staring down at his hand and the pearly fluid now coating his fingers and trickling into his palm while he stroked her. He had never felt anything so…warm and soft and intriguing in his life. 

“Oh yes…for you,” she whispered, leaning in to run her tongue over his lips, “I like to talk when I make love, Lucius…talk to me.” 

“I can’t seem to make my brain function.” He answered her honestly. His thoughts were erratic at best, bouncing between the delicious feeling of her wet and welcoming sex and his own throbbing pole begging for attention.

She looked down and saw his cock lying heavy against his belly, a shiny smear of pre-ejaculate spread across the tightly muscled plain. It was a deep ruddy color and she could see the veins pulsing beneath the skin. He was so engorged that his foreskin had retracted and the plumy head was visible and weeping. She reached down and ran her finger lightly from base to tip along the underside and watched it pulse and bounce against his belly while he hissed and held his breath.

“You aren’t going to last very long are you?” she asked. There was no judgment or accusation in her voice. 

“I’ll try….but….it’s been a long time and you feel so….” He trailed off into a low groan as she shifted her hips so that his finger slid into her. She was so tight, scalding hot and so damned slick and she felt so wonderful around his finger that the thought of sliding his penis inside her made him want to weep. Why on earth had he never noticed how incredible a woman’s body actually was? Because he was a prude, that was why. A big, arrogant, pureblood prude, but that was changing fast as his crass little bride was quickly making it clear that a ‘traditional’ marital bed was not going to be a part of their marriage.

“It’s okay….you have such amazing hands….just don’t stop what you’re doing, okay?” She wrapped her fingers around his wide base and steadied his erection as she adjusted herself over him. “Just keep rubbing my clit…don’t stop,” she gasped as she fit the wide, flared head against her opening and felt the slight burn of his shaft stretching her open. It had been awhile for her as well. 

“Urrrrgggghhhhh…..” He groaned, long and loud as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He had never felt anything…..ANYTHING, quite like the silky feel of his young bride sheathing his erection inside her.

“Don’t stop rubbing,” she said, sinking all the way down until her butt was firmly against his thighs. He was thick and long and probably the biggest she’d ever had so taking him fully took some adjustment. His fingertips stroking her clit certainly helped as she reveled in being filled by him. Oh yes, she was definitely going to make this marriage work and she was going to find a way to be happy, even if her happiness was only found in the trousers of the man currently in danger of passing out beneath her. “Lucius….look at me,” she said, clasping his face in her hands and holding his head steady when he met her eyes. She began to move, sliding up and then letting her weight carry her back down with a slow circling of her hips before sliding up again. His eyes fluttered and the room once more resounded with his loud groan. “No…don’t close your eyes…keep looking at me.” 

She felt powerful as she took him. He was lost, to _her_ , to the pleasure that she was bringing him. His eyes looked almost panicked and she felt him trembling beneath her.

“I know…it’s okay…go ahead and move…fuck me,” she whispered hotly, reaching for his hand that was clutching the arm of the chair and placing it squarely on her ass. He squeezed, hard and she almost winced in pain but he chose that moment to roll his hips and dig his cock deeper inside her and she lost any thoughts of pain. It was PERFECT, the angle, the size…perfect. 

“Hermione…” he moaned her name pleadingly but wasn’t quite sure what he was pleading for. 

“That’s good…just like that….oh god…I’m going to come, Lucius, I’m going to come and … come hard…yes, yes….yes!” Her hands went to his shoulders, her nails digging into the tightly bunched muscles as a familiar quiver began to roll through her belly. Bolstered by her encouragement he began to move more steadily beneath her, one hand clutching her arse and the other still stroking her clit gently. “Oh…god…Lucius!” She stiffened, her entire body going taut aside from the sleek, wet sleeve of her sex. Those supple walls clenched and un-clenched, rippling around him as she trembled and shook. 

He had no control over his reactions, he dug his fingers into her fleshy bottom and pushed up hard and deep, letting her undulating channel pull his orgasm from him. He had never come so hard or so much in his life. On and on his cock twitched and pulsed inside her. He was dizzy with the pleasure of it, his mind completely lost to the ridiculous pleasure that threatened to render him unconscious.

His head fell back, his body covered in sweat. Hermione went lax against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder, his softening cock still twitching inside her as they struggled for breath. Hermione began to laugh softly, a raspy chuckle that had him grunting in response.

“Oh my…that was better than I expected,” she sighed, pressing a playful little kiss to his cheek. 

“Ungh,” he grunted again. Forming actual words was impossible. The witch had defeated him and everything he thought he knew about sex and marriage. He was nothing but a boneless shell of a wizard but he was damned happy in that moment, despite the inappropriateness of being naked in a chair with a witch sprawled all over him. 

“I won’t even ask if it was good for you,” she laughed. “Security will probably come knocking to see if everyone is okay,” she lifted her head and smiled at him. “I never took you for a screamer, Lucius.” 

He arched a brow and made another Neanderthal noise before closing his eyes and sighing. He wrapped his arms around her without actually thinking about it and she sighed and burrowed against him. He found it oddly pleasant to hold her and wondered why. He barely knew the witch after all, despite finding the most unbelievable pleasure in her arms.

“Mmmmm…that feels nice,” she sighed, her breath tickling the skin at the base of his throat. “I’d say for our first go we did fairly well, husband.”

“I would be a fool to disagree, wife,” he mumbled. 

“We’ll try again in a little bit….this time in the bed,” she said softly, closing her eyes and basking in his warmth.

Again? The witch wanted to do it again! He could barely move after doing it the first time! Maybe the Ministry wasn’t really trying to make an example of him by marrying him off to the feisty mudblood…maybe they were trying to kill him instead.


	4. Chapter 4

****

**Chapter Four: Reflection**

While the new couple consummated their marriage in a far off hotel Draco Malfoy was dragging his new step-mother’s best friends into a pub on the edge of Knockturn Alley. 

“Haven’t we drunk enough?” Weasley asked, swaying and blinking rapidly to try and stay awake.

“Nope,” Draco grinned and passed the hostess a couple of galleons as she led him to an exclusive VIP table in the back. Weasley was fairly pissed and appeared to be a sleepy drunk while Potter was grinning like a fool, he was the happy drunk. Once they were settled in at their table he ordered a round and then stared at the two people he had spent his school days hating, two people who were now going to be a permanent part of his life, like it or not.

“So…Granger and my dad…who’d have thought it,” he grinned around his glass and waited.

“I hope your father survives,” Ron snorted, tipping back his pint. Draco knew they would talk.

“Why is that? Granger in the habit of killing wizards?” he asked.

“Pffft….drains ‘em dry,” Harry said on a hiccup.

“How’s that?” Draco thought he should probably cut Potter off, the man obviously couldn’t hold his liquor and Draco had been plying him with it since the start of the reception. 

“The woman is insashi…inesch….she can’t get enough,” Ron said, shaking his head. “It was always, _’More, Ron…harder…faster…again...do it this way…wake up, lets go again’_ I was exhausted all the time and my cock _hurt_!” He winced as if recalling a past pain. “She didn’t care…made me take a healing potion and back on she’d climb….I loved her but damn she was just too much for me to handle.”

“He cried,” Harry was giggling like a ten year old girl. “He cried because his penis hurt…lied to her about working so he could rest his balls!”

“Is that right? Father got himself a little nympho, did he?” Draco chuckled, wondering just how his stick in the mud father was going to handle that. His father was a prude, no other word for it. 

“Your father got himself a witch that never stops! If I were him I’d stock up on virility and healing potions,” Ron snorted. 

“And ice for his balls,” Harry giggled again and Draco leaned back in the booth smirking. The situation got better by the minute, it was definitely going to be fun to watch.

**~ @ ~**

Lucius Malfoy sat in the strange hotel bed, his back propped up against the headboard while he reflected upon his marriage. Already it was vastly different from the first marriage in that he had consummated it without being in a bed. Without even lying down, and while part of him wanted to be horrified at his behavior he just couldn’t. It had been without a doubt the most incredible feeling in the world. 

He looked down at the woman sprawled face down on the bed beside him. The tangled sheet of curls draped over the pillow, the sheet pushed low, one leg and buttock exposed. Her skin was so smooth, so soft that he had been amazed at how much he enjoyed touching it. She smelled sweet and she tasted even sweeter. He found himself craving the taste of her lips as she moaned softly and shifted against the mattress. 

After their un-orthodox romp in the chair they had cleaned up and retired to the bed. It was a large bed, ridiculously large in fact and he had fully expected her to stay firmly on one side while he inhabited the other, it was normally how such things were done on the rare occasions that he and Narcissa had shared a room. After the chair he shouldn’t have been surprised when she slid across the sheets and curled up against his side, her creamy soft thigh draped over his pelvis. She sighed contentedly and began talking softly about how they could have a happy marriage if they could just try and be friends, how they could work together to make a wonderful life. She said she already knew that she was going to enjoy sharing his bed every night.

Sharing his bed. Every night. The witch wanted to sleep with him. Right there beside him and he really didn’t understand. He knew she was resigned to her fate, just as he was. But why would she be willing to try so hard to make it workable? Why would she want to try so hard to make their marriage a happy one? 

He couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her, just barely letting his fingertips brush the smooth skin of her shoulder. He kept touching her, unable to stop himself. He had touched her in a similar fashion earlier, touching her cheek just below the fan of her lashes. Those lashes had fluttered briefly before slowly lifting to reveal sleepy, gold orbs that seemed to _see_ what he couldn’t. Was it youth that brought her optimism? Her lips had lifted into a soft smile and her arms had twined around his neck. At her insistent tugging he found himself on top of her, settled between her thighs in a position that was more familiar to him. Only she hadn’t left her hands fisted at her side nor did she let them just rest on his shoulders. Her nails scratched lightly along his spine, causing him to groan and shiver as his skin prickled and his erection grew. She lifted her head and took his lips, kissing him gently, passionately while her hands explored his back and then curled over his buttocks, squeezing him, encouraging him to enter her. 

For the first time ever he found himself making love to a woman twice in one night. It was slow and lazy with him moving at a steady pace between her thighs, their bodies sliding together in a perfect rhythm that stunned him. She moaned and whimpered, moved beneath him, whispered naughty words in his ear as she voiced her pleasure in his body. When he spilled himself inside her she had wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight, holding him inside her until he softened and slipped from her naturally. 

He had fallen asleep again after that, sleeping deeply for several hours before his natural body clock woke him. If he were at home he would have gotten up and headed to his study where work was always waiting to be done managing his vast fortune and business holdings. But he wasn’t at home. He was in a posh hotel with his wife. On holiday. On his honeymoon. 

He slipped from the bed, careful not to wake her and made his way to the bathroom. He leaned over the side of the tub and ran himself a hot bath. While the tub filled he relieved himself, brushed his teeth and shaved, all while wondering what life held for him. He stepped into the tub, his tight and aching muscles rejoicing as he sank into the hot water. He was unaccustomed to such activity and his back and thighs were protesting. He sighed, reclining against the back of the tub for a moment before sliding below the surface to wet his hair.

When he resurfaced he was no longer alone. His wife was standing in the doorway wrapped in the bed sheet watching him. He pushed his wet hair back and met her gaze. She was a mess yet he thought her beautiful. How was that possible? When did he stop looking at her and seeing a filthy mudblood?

“Good morning, Husband,” she said, smiling.

“Good morning….Wife,” he said, embarrassed at the rough sound of his voice. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“No…you didn’t,” she said as she crossed the room and stood by the tub for just a second. She dropped the sheet, baring her body to him for only a moment before she stepped into his bath with him.

“What are you doing?” Surely she didn’t intend to share his bath! Such things were vulgar and base and …. Unsanitary! 

“I’m taking a bath…with you,” she said as she moved behind him, bracketing him with her thighs and urging him to lie back against her. “Relax, Lucius, couples often share their bath.”

“Not in my family they don’t.” he frowned, trying to relax against her but it was difficult when he could feel the hard tips of her breast against his shoulders and the soft tickle of her nether curls at the small of his back. “Why are you being nice to me, Hermione? You don’t have to be, you have no reason to be.”

The witch sighed and he felt her relax behind him. It felt odd to be reclining between her splayed thighs while she stroked his hair. Odd…yet pleasant. It made him wary, wondering if a hex was going to be cast as soon as his back was turned, or if she was going to poison his food slowly over the next year. He didn’t want to believe that maybe the witch was actually attracted to him, that maybe she meant what she said about finding a way to be happy together. He was a death eater, he wasn’t entitled to _happy_.

“I am so tired of holding on to the past. If I continuously judge you and others by mistakes you have repented for then I am no better than the people who judge me simply because I was born to muggle parents,” she said softly. “Life is too short, as you know, to go through it hating people. Have I forgotten your past? No, I have a very vivid memory of the evil things you did. But not as vivid as the memories of you fighting to save your family, of the disgust in your eyes when you watched Bellatrix torture me in your parlor. Those things stand out more to me because they showed that your whole heart wasn’t dark, you weren’t completely convinced that you were doing what was right, some part of you held back and wondered,” she said. “I am choosing to build our marriage based on that part of you. I don’t want to be unhappy all my life, Lucius, I don’t want you to be unhappy either. We have no alternatives aside from giving up who we are, this is it, for better or worse until death do us part. I want to strive for the better.”

“You are awfully young to be so … wise,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of her fingers gently massaging the back of his neck. She was very _touchy_ he noticed. He had noticed it at the wedding reception when she had kept a hand on his arm the entire evening as they moved about and conversed with their guests. He had of course noticed it when they were engaging in intercourse, her hands were everywhere and had even left marks on his back and shoulders. He wasn’t accustomed to being touched so much but for the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to stop. 

“You aren’t the first to tell me that,” she smiled. “Why are _you_ being so nice to _me_?”

“I was angry, don’t get me wrong, I have no wish to be married again,” he said, resting his hand on her knee where it stuck up out of the water. “I suppose that I have just become accustomed to the Ministry dictating my life. I have learned to just accept that I gave up any right to running my own life in exchange for life outside of prison. It could have been worse, you are intelligent, attractive…I believe you will be a good mother to our children. If you mean what you say…I am willing to build a friendship with you.”

“But we aren’t just friends, are we? We are lovers too,” she said, sliding her hands down his chest. She began to lightly strum his nipples, smiling when she saw the head of his cock peeking above the surface of the water. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“Which time?” he gasped, groaning at the unusual sensation of having his nipples stimulated.

“Both. I enjoyed it very much,” she whispered in his ear, tracing it with the tip of her tongue. 

“It was…ahhh…yes, yes, I enjoyed it,” he said hoarsely, shuddering in the witch’s arms. 

“It’s only going to get better,” she said before nibbling on his earlobe. “You are going to be the happiest wizard in England with me as your wife, Lucius, I swear it.”

She began nibbling, kissing and suckling her way down the side of his neck. She loved how he trembled when she reached a particularly sensitive spot. His hands had slid from her knees to her thighs without him realizing it, his fingers flexing in the supple flesh over and over as she seduced him. 

“We only have to do this three times per week,” he said, panting as her slippery fingers tickled his navel. “This would be three times in twelve hours.”

“Do you only wish to do it three times per week?” she asked, swirling her fingertips in the downy hair trailing below his belly button leading to the fully erect flesh bobbing in the water. “I think that would be a shame when we get on so well.”

“I-I don’t w-want to t-take advantage… _ooohhhh_!” He couldn’t think straight when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and squeezed, slowly drawing her hand upwards. 

“Oh you won’t be…I _want_ to,” she said, grazing his pulse with her teeth. “In fact…let’s just forget about that little requirement, shall we? We are going to do this as often as we want and I think that we will more than fulfill the ministries demands.”

“Ah…yes… _yes_ …” he groaned and arched into her hand, thrusting through her fist because he couldn’t help himself. 

“It just occurred to me that I invaded your bath…I didn’t even consider that you might enjoy a wank with your morning bath or shower,” she whispered, twisting her fingers gently at the head and causing him to moan and arch even more into her touch. “Did I disrupt your routine?”

“N-no…oh gods, woman…” he whimpered, a pitiful sound that had her smiling. 

“You never wank in the shower?” she taunted.

“N-not often…ugh…” He was under her spell, there was no doubt in his mind that he was bewitched by her. Why else would he be conversing about his masturbatory habits? Because he was afraid that she might stop the delicious torture she was inflicting upon his cock if he didn’t answer her questions.

“Feel good?” she asked, stroking his nipple with her other hand. 

“Yesssss,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Do you want me to finish you….or do you want to come inside me?” she asked, still stroking him beneath the water. “I want you inside me, Lucius, I love how well you fill me….” She blinked in surprise at how quickly he turned over. He was on his knees between her thighs, his hands gripping her behind the knees as he lifted her, forcing her to grip the edge of the tub to keep from sliding under. 

He wasn’t thinking about propriety at all as he positioned himself at her entrance. He wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting inside her as fast and as deep as he possibly could. He closed his eyes and grunted as he sank fully into her, letting the water buoy her weight as he slid through the slippery heat that had him acting like a mindless brute.

Hermione didn’t mind, seeing him out of control and so desperate for her excited her. She just held on and enjoyed the ride while watching her handsome husband’s expressive face. Every slack mouthed groan and pleasured grimace told her just how much he enjoyed what he was doing to her. She was certainly enjoying it, his intense reactions spurring her own. Who would have ever thought that she would be the one to debauch a Malfoy?

He wasn’t thinking, he was feeling and Merlin it felt good. His little wife was so warm, tight and _responsive_! She wrapped her legs tight around his hips and held on, grinding against his every thrust as best she could while she panted and whimpered her encouragement. It was ridiculous behavior for a man his age yet he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to! She felt incredible, sex felt incredible. She pleaded with him, harder…faster…and he complied until they were coming together with audible force, water splashing out of the tub and soaking the floor. 

“Hermione…” he growled, his hands sliding to her backside and digging in to the cushiony flesh as he tried to dig deeper inside her. She could tell he was going to come by the intense, almost panicked expression on his face and the realization that she had brought him to that desperation pushed her to the precipice of her own release. 

“Yes…yes…come for me…come for me,” she said, her voice broken and raspy as she tightened her thighs around him. He thrust hard and deep, holding himself steady as his cock pulsed and pumped his seed into her. The sound of his deep bellow triggered her own release, a sweet rippling orgasm that had her trembling in his arms as he fell forward, splashing into the water as he took her under with him. 

They struggled, sputtering to the surface and sucking in much needed air while they spat the soapy water back out. Lucius found himself sitting with his back to the tub and his wife in his lap, her hair clinging to her face and shoulders making her look a bit like a drowned rat. He pushed her hair back and stared into her eyes, waiting for her to yell at him for getting her hair wet. But she didn’t yell, she didn’t cry or begin fussing. The witch started laughing, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a rather enthusiastic kiss on his shocked lips.

“Oh, Lucius, what a way to start our first day as husband and wife!”


	5. Chapter 5

****

**Chapter Five: Home Sweet Home**

Lucius sat in his favorite chair before the fireplace in the ‘family parlor’ with a glass of fire-whiskey in one hand a newspaper in the other. He was reading all about his wedding in the social pages wondering why anyone cared. Despite all that he had done to make amends he was still a bit of a social pariah and he didn’t think that marrying the Ministry’s golden girl was going to make that big of a difference in people’s wariness of him. He stared at the photograph of them that replayed the wedding kiss over and over with mixed emotions. His honeymoon had certainly been surprising. Not to mention exhausting. The witch had endless energy and enthusiasm for bed-sport while he was just trying to get used to the idea of a marital bed that wasn’t cold and perfunctory. 

His energetic new bride had made herself scarce since they returned home early in the afternoon. He assumed that she was getting herself settled and allowing him the opportunity to check up on his businesses and speak with Draco. She had said very little over dinner, excusing herself early to handle some correspondence. He figured that the business conversation between he and Draco was boring her and she was trying to be polite. Or was she just uncomfortable being in his home again? He looked over at Draco who was reclining on the sofa flipping through a Quidditch journal and was suddenly struck by how uncomfortable the silence was. It had never bothered him before to sit and read quietly with his family at the end of the day. It was what they had done after dinner for as long as he could remember, even before Narcissa had passed. But after a week of marriage to a woman who talked almost incessantly the silence had him fidgeting in irritation, craving conversation. 

He looked up to see Hermione enter the room and immediately sat up straight. He had developed an almost pavlovian response to his wife in the short week since their nuptials. Chances were that if she was near he was in some state of arousal. It was uncomfortable and embarrassing while at the same time intriguing. As was her unusual state of dress. She had changed out of her simple skirt and blouse and was now wearing a pair of snug cotton leggings and a large jumper. _His_ jumper to be exact though he couldn’t begin to recall the last time he had worn it. She had the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the hem reached her knees. She had on a pair of black and crème striped socks with individual sleeves for each of her toes.

She had let her hair down, the soft, slightly frizzy curls curling over her shoulders and dancing down her back. He was immediately reminded of how young she is. Twenty five years younger than himself, half his age to be exact. He waited for the irritation to come, the guilt and shame that plagued him when they had first been betrothed. He never understood exactly why he had felt bad, he had done nothing wrong, he hadnt even considered it. Lucius was not a man who sat about daydreaming about the fairer sex...well, he _hadn't_ been. Things were different now that he had married the witch and gotten a taste of what life was like with a woman that desired him, who seemed to crave his attention. He seemed to think of little else. 

"Good evening, Husband," she said, giving him a soft, welcoming smile as she settled onto the arm of his chair and slid her arm across his shoulders.

"Good evening, Wife," he responded in the greeting that had become habit in their first week together. He was growing accustomed to her easy affections, no longer shocked by her casual touches and familiar mannerisms. He realized that touching others was how she communicated, it was how she connected and could be seen in the casual manner in which she would touch her friends while they conversed. With any one else he might have found it offensive and vulgar but with her it was somehow alright. He dared to admit that he enjoyed it.

"Business over for tonight?" she asked, stroking a lock of hair between her fingers.

"I believe so...Draco and I were just reading," he said, his fingers flexing beside her hip, unsure what he was supposed to do with it since she was sitting on the arm of his chair. As if she were reading his mind she reached back and placed his hand on her hip, chuckling lightly when his fingers dug into the soft flesh.

"How are you this evening, Draco?" She asked, looking over at the young man watching them curiously from the sofa. Hermione didnt doubt that he was shocked to see her cozied up to his father. No doubt he figured the two of them would be dueling in the back garden before ever becoming intimate.

"I'm good, Granger, how are you?" he asked thinking it strange to see his father allowing her to invade his personal space. He wasnt a man who invited personal contact, certainly not physical affection. Yet there he sat, his witch practically in his lap, fondling her backside while she played with his hair. Curiouser and Curiouser. 

"Malfoy," Lucius said.

"Pardon me?" Draco looked at his father to see him frowning.

"You called her Granger, her name is Malfoy now," Lucius said.

"How about we settle for Hermione?" She interrupted, a bit startled by Lucius's correction. "And I am just fine."

"Fine, _Hermione_ , how was France?" Draco asked.

"It was lovely," she said, her smile stretching ear to ear.

"Did you visit the Louvre?" He asked conversationally.

"No, we didnt," she said.

"The eifel tower?"

"No," she said.

"Champagne? Notre Dame?"

"Um..no and no," she laughed.

"Did you leave the hotel?" he smirked. He had been joking but nearly choked on his laughter when he saw his fathers face darken. "You didn't leave the hotel for a week?"

"No...wait, we did! We went to dinner once!" she said.

"Once? You ate _once_ in a week?"

"No, we went _out_ to eat once in a week, we ordered room service the rest of the time," she said.

"Why? What did you do..." He was cut off when his father cleared his throat. "Oh...eww."

"This conversation is inappropriate," Lucius said roughly.

"He's not bothering me, we're family now, besides, the boys say far worse around me," she said laughing. "They forget I am a female I think."

"I doubt that," Lucius scoffed.

"Really? An ENTIRE week?" Draco wasn't at all chagrined by his fathers glare. "I...how..but...you're FIFTY!"

"I know how old I am, Draco," Lucius snapped. He wasnt one for having personal conversations with anyone outside of Severus, certainly not with his son. 

"Do you? You could have a coronary trying to shag like a young man! You could have died!" He was having a go at his father and he knew that Hermione could tell, his father on the other hand didn’t understand his sense of humor.

"Nonsense, Draco. Your father did just fine," Hermione laughed, pressing a kiss to her irritated husband's brow. "I took it easy on him."

"You took it _easy_ on me?" Lucius suddenly looked panicked. 

"Oh yes...very easy," she whispered, running her tongue over her lips. 

"I think he's going to faint," Draco said in concern as he watched his father pale   
considerably. 

“N-no…I’m f-fine,” he stammered. “Draco, would you excuse us?”

“You aren’t going to…you know…in the family parlor are you?” he asked.

“Draco…now.” Draco knew that tone and he knew better than to argue with it. He gathered up his magazine and left them alone, suddenly anxious for the safety of his bed chamber. He closed the door behind him, giving the unusual pair one last, puzzled stare before he retired for the night.

Lucius stared at the door curiously when he heard the lock turn, engaged by his son. Surely he didn’t believe they were going to be engaging in intercourse in the family parlor?

“Are you going to scold me, Lucius? Is that why you sent Draco away?” she asked.

“No, I just wanted to speak with you in private about our…relationship,” he said. He shivered when she ran her fingers down the side of his throat. 

“Oh?” She slid her fingers beneath his shirt collar, tracing along the delicate skin beneath the fabric until she could loosen the button at his throat.

“What did you mean when you said you took it easy on me? We…made love…at least twice a day every day of our honeymoon…four times one day…I am concerned that maybe you have a problem,” he furrowed his brow reached up to stop her hand. “Are you an addict?”

She stared at him with wide eyes for a moment and then her lips began to twitch and within seconds she was laughing loudly, shifting herself directly into his lap.

“Oh,Lucius,” she laughed, pressing her lips against his lightly. “No, I am not a sex addict,” she said, tapping the slight cleft in his chin with her index finger. “I _like_ sex, a lot. I really _like_ sex with you. Before we were married I hadn’t been with a man in over a year, I’m just making up for lost time.”

"About this 'taking it easy' issue..." He wasnt sure how he managed to find the coherancy to speak with her wriggling on his lap and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Once I realized that you weren't the sexual deviant I had imagined you to be I realized that we were going to have to build you up, increase your stamina," she said. "There is so much that we haven’t done."

She slid her hand inside his open shirt and stroked the smooth, heated skin of his chest. She loved to touch him. She enjoyed being near him and that surprised her. She really hadn’t expected to _like_ her husband. She fully expected to find him only tolerable, instead she was quickly growing rather fond of the quiet, serious wizard she had married. 

“Such as?” he croaked. She was stroking his nipples with her fingertip and it drove him insane. He never imagined such a thing could feel so good! 

“Oh there are many positions and places for us to try. Not to mention toys and games, anal sex.” He stiffened and she felt him swallow hard, the muscles of his throat working beneath her lips as she continued her nibbling. “There is oral sex.” She whispered in his ear, biting into the fleshy lobe and eliciting a gasp. She loved how vocal he was about his pleasure. She especially loved it when he lost control, his hoarse shouts and tortured groans were like a drug, she couldn’t get enough. 

“What?” he asked hoarsely.

“You _do_ like oral sex, don’t you, Lucius?” She purred into his ear, her fingers tweaking one of his tight nipples.

“I…I…don’t….aaaaghhhh….” His eyes were closed and his head fell back in defeat as he gave himself over to the woman who played him like a finely tuned instrument. He was helpless to refuse her. Resisting her never crossed his mind. In fact, nothing crossed his mind when she was near, one whiff of her soft perfume and he was a mindless zombie ready and willing to do her bidding. It pricked his pride that he was so weak, a veritable slave to his libido. Yet while his lack of control irked him he couldn’t resist, he craved what she made him feel, he craved her attention, her affection like an addict craved the fix. 

“You’ve never done it before, have you?” she asked softly, a smile creeping across her lips. “You’ve never felt a hot, wet mouth wrapped around your cock, sucking and stroking you.” His chest rumbled with a guttural groan that had her wriggling against his aroused cock excitedly. “Have you ever performed it?” she asked, smirking when he arched on eye brow and cocked open one eye. “On a woman, have you ever buried your face between a pair of soft thighs and tongued a woman to orgasm?”

“No,” he said, his face flushing. She licked her lips and pushed his shirt open, sliding off of his lap to kneel on the floor between his legs. 

“I’m not disappointed by that all,” she said as she dragged her nails lightly down his chest and abdomen. “I get to train you.”

“To do what?” he asked hoarsely as she began tugging his shirt from his trousers and then began to open the pinstriped slacks. 

“I get to train you to pleasure me with your mouth. You have a delightfully wicked tongue, Lucius, I intend to show you how to put it to good use,” she said, curling her fingers into his waistband and tugging his trousers down. He shifted, lifting his hips so that she could pull them to his ankles leaving him reclining in his chair wearing his open shirt and his trousers bunched at his feet. “But right now I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing.”

She wrapped her fingers around the impressive erection lying heavily against his belly and held him firmly at his base. His cock now stood proudly from the nest of golden curls. His fingers were biting into the arms of the chair and his teeth were clenched painfully, the muscle in his jaw twitching from the force of it. She drew his foreskin back and revealed the purple hued tip weeping cloudy tears of anticipation and he groaned loudly. He watched her, holding his breath as she licked her lips and then ducked her head, circling the pulsing head with a light circling of her tongue.

“Hermione!” Her name came out as more of a grunt than an exclamation and she smiled up at him for a moment before slowly dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft. She was fairly certain that his death grip on the chair was the only thing keeping him seated as his breath hissed in and then held. She decided to interpret it as encouragement and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly sucking his length into her mouth. “Aaaarrrrggghhhh….” His thighs trembled and she felt him pulsing against her tongue as she began to suckle, slowly sliding her mouth up and down his shaft. 

She pressed her tongue up tight against the sensitive underside letting the rough surface stimulate him. From the way he was throbbing and the strangled gurgling sounds coming from his throat she figured he was going to come soon. She wrapped her hand around him and slowly began to pump his shaft in time with her suckling strokes. She loved being able to teach him, being able to guide him through one of life’s greatest pleasures. 

He was getting progressively louder, his body tensing and his balls drawing up tight to his body. The sounds he made when they were making love excited her more than anything ever had. To be the one who made the quiet, contemplative wizard lose all control was a powerful aphrodisiac. 

“Hermione…stop….stop….I cant….oh…oh…oh gods….” She sucked harder and brought her hand down to caress his balls, sliding her fingers behind them to stroke the smooth skin of his perineum. His inarticulate growl echoed off of the wood paneling, startling her for a moment as he began to shake. His hands left the arms of the chair and burrowed into her hair. He held her tight and lifted his hips, trying in vain to move deeper into her mouth as his creamy essence spurted into her throat again and again. She kept sucking and stroking, listening to his cries and enjoying his pleasure nearly as much as he was. 

It wasn’t until he finally stilled and began to soften that she released him from the vacuum of her mouth. He looked dazed as he sat slumped in the chair, damp tendrils of platinum hair clinging to his face and neck as he panted and struggled for breath. She thought that he looked rather beautiful so disheveled. 

“You alright?” she asked, stroking his thighs lightly. 

“Ungh,” he grunted in reply. She smiled and slowly climbed back into his lap, curling up against his chest and resting her head on his shoulder.

“So, how did you like it?” she asked.

“I feel like you sucked my soul right out of me,” he said tiredly.

“Then I did it right,” she chuckled.

“You make me feel inept at times,” he confessed quietly. 

“I don’t mean to. You aren’t inept…just inexperienced. I like it. I like being the person bringing something good into your life,” she said, idly stroking the center of his chest with her fingertips. “I have no complaints so far in this marriage…aside from the fact that you are very quiet.”

“A quiet life is a trouble free life I have learned,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. He knew that she liked it when he held her, she had told him so. “I don’t want any more trouble in my life.”

“Neither do I,” she said on a yawn. “Ready for bed?”

“To sleep or to…” He figured he didn’t need to complete the thought, she would understand.

“Either…or both,” she smiled. “Take me to bed, Lucius.” She whispered softly. He tightened his arms around her and stood, a whispered spell put his trousers back to rights as he adjusted her comfortably against him. He could have apparated them to their bedchamber but he liked the feel of her against him, the weight of her in his arms. So he carried her across the room, the door opening as he neared, magic making it a little easier for him as he carried his wife up to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

****

**Chapter Six: Confusing Thoughts**

Late night in Malfoy Manor had always been a bit disconcerting, Lucius thought as he stared up at the ornately carved molding in his ceiling. It was late, very late, and he was wide awake. His room was softly illuminated by slivers of moonlight streaming in through the gossamer sheers adorning the large windows and the only sound to be heard were the crackling of the fire and the soft, even breathing of the woman lying beside him. 

As he looked at her he rethought the ‘beside him’. It was more accurate to say that the witch was sprawled all over him. Her cheek rested against the center of his chest, one hand curled lightly against his stomach and the other stretched out on the mattress. One leg was stretched along side his while the other was thrown across his hips, lightly rubbing against his groin every now and then as she shifted in her sleep. 

He found himself oddly comfortable having her in his arms, draped across his body so familiarly. Even her unruly curls, which had somehow managed to wind around his body like devil’s snare, failed to annoy him just then. He felt somehow at peace and _that_ was what was keeping him awake. He didn’t trust that feeling of ease and he certainly didn’t understand it. He was behaving in a manner unfitting a man of his social position. He was rutting with his young wife like a common peasant and even though he knew such behavior was beneath him he just couldn’t find the shame he thought he should be feeling.

He didn’t love her. Not even a little bit. He barely _liked_ her yet the instant he heard her voice or smelled her soft scent he was ready to drag her to the nearest secluded spot and bury himself inside her so deeply that he became lost. Too often that was exactly what was happening. It was as if she had unleashed some sort of demon inside him, one that he had been starving for far too long. He had enjoyed sex before, it wasn’t as if he had no idea that it was a pleasurable endeavor, he just didn’t realize _how_ pleasurable it could be, or how addictive.

“I can hear the cogs turning in your head,” she said softly, interrupting his train of thought. She shifted against him, her soft thigh rubbing against him and stirring his erection to life. “Good thoughts?”

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly, cursing his all too eager cock and lack of self control.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

“I don’t know that it would help,” he said, trying not to react to her fingers running lightly down the center of his chest. “I guess I am just still trying to adjust.”

“To being married again?” she asked.

“Yes…and to our rather unusual relationship,” he said.

“The only thing that is unusual about our relationship is that we were once enemies forced to wed,” she said on a soft laugh. “The sex is normal, Lucius. I promise you that every other married couple…and some unmarried couples…are doing the exact same things we are on a regular basis.”

“It seems more than just ‘a regular basis’, it is beginning to seem compulsory,” he said.

“No, it’s just new,” she reassured. “All couples go through a honeymoon period.”

“I didn’t with my first wife,” he said. “Sometimes I think that you and I have engaged in intercourse more in these last few months than Narcissa and I did in twenty eight years.”

“Oh, Lucius, your prudish behavior still surprises me,” she said as she shifted her body, sliding over and sitting up until she was firmly seated astride his torso. “You worry so much that what we are doing is excessive…” she reached between them and wrapped her fingers firmly around the thick erection lying against his belly. “that it’s crass…” She lined the plumy tip up with her opening and slowly sank down onto his shaft. “that it is somehow wrong…” Slowly she began to move, tightening her vaginal muscles with every slow rise and then relaxing to sink slowly back downwards until he was seated deep within her. “Does it feel wrong, Lucius?” she asked, her query punctuated with a little whimper.

“What?” he groaned. He knew she had asked him a question but had no idea what it was. How was he supposed to answer questions when she was sliding up and down his cock so delightfully?

“Does it feel wrong?” she asked again, falling forward and catching herself with her hands planted on the pillow on either side of his head. “Does it?”

“I…ugh…I don’t…oh gods, witch!” His hands went to her hips and dug in reflexively as he began to lift his hips, pumping his cock up through her clasping sleeve with increasing fervor.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” She whispered hotly, nibbling on the soft lobe of his ear. “It feels amazing. You feel so good inside me, Lucius, so thick and hard…I’m going to come…make me come, Lucius,” she whimpered in his ear, grinding her hips down against his upwards thrust, rubbing her clit against his pubic bone and pursuing her release. 

It was a challenge for him now. He was addicted to the power that came with pleasuring his wife. It stroked his ego that he could bring her to such a point and amazed him. Not to mention the pleasure that came from her pussy sucking greedily at his cock during orgasm. He slid his hands up, curling them around her shoulders, bracing himself as he lifted his hips harder, faster, fucking her with abandon until he achieved his goal and sent her over the edge. He watched her face, the tight, almost painful grimace as she crested and then the blissful relaxation as she rode the wave of pleasure. He couldn’t stop then, it was impossible for him not to follow her over, pulsing and jetting his seed deep inside her. The sleek muscles of her channel caressing him, milking him, drawing his seed from deep inside. 

“Mmmm…perfect,” she groaned, falling against him. She didn’t even try to move off of him. She just let her weight rest against him as she panted and sighed in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

“You are going to kill me,” he said. His head was spinning as he caressed the smooth skin of her back. Just as confused as he was before but too sated and tired to ponder it further. 

“Stop over thinking everything, Lucius,” she said, turning her face into his neck and pressing soft kisses against it. “Now, go to sleep,” she ordered, gently shifting off of him and letting his semi-flaccid penis slip from inside her molten depths. She scooted back into her previous position at his side, draped over him like a flesh blanket, warming his sweaty body further with her body heat. 

He said nothing, he couldn’t move, could barely breathe. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to keep his eyes open any longer. She had wrung him dry both physically and emotionally. Though he wouldn’t admit it, she satisfied him in ways that he hadn’t known he was dissatisfied.

****

**~ @ ~**

Lucius was very quiet as he bathed and dressed the following morning. He believed that Hermione was still sleeping and was trying to be considerate, not realizing that his young wife was in fact awake and watching him. She was lying on her stomach, her head nestled on his pillow and her eyes opened to little slits as she observed him. Lucius naked was a beautiful thing to behold. Tall and golden with a body beautifully formed with lean, muscle and smooth skin. He wasn’t particularly hairy, the body hair he did have was soft and a light golden color just a few shades darker than his hair.

He walked out of their bathroom completely naked, proudly displaying his nudity without self consciousness, though she doubted he would have been so bold had he known she was awake and watching. She watched him bend over and step into his shorts then tug them into place, unfortunately covering the beauty of his smooth, tight backside. Once more she watched him bend over, wobbling just a little as he tugged his black socks over his feet. It was amusing to watch him walk to the wardrobe in shorts and socks and she had to stifle a giggle when he disappeared inside. 

She could hear him rustling around inside, the scrape of hangers on the bar and the soft sound of him humming a tune to himself. He reappeared moments later, still in his shorts and socks but now wearing an unbuttoned cotton dress shirt in a soft shade of silver grey with a pair of charcoal colored slacks draped over his arm. His lips were moving slightly as he fastened his buttons and talked to himself. She imagined he was going over some business deal or maybe doing financial equations in his head.

While she very much preferred starring at her husband naked, watching him dress was strangely erotic. The slow deliberate motions as he donned his clothing were sensual, graceful despite the fact that they were depriving her of the entrancing site of his nudity. She wanted to moan in disappointment as he fastened his trousers, locking her favorite new ‘toy’ behind the button and zipper. 

She wasn’t ashamed of being a woman with a strong sex drive, though there were times when she was slightly perturbed by her insatiable desire for this particular wizard. He _was_ after all, one of the most evil wizards she had ever come across. But he was also sexy as all hell and she couldn’t help but get a little thrill every time she thought about the fact that he hadn’t **really** known sex until her. She liked being the one to muss him up, to rock his prissy world on its axis. It made her feel powerful.

She smiled as he bent over to tie his shoes, his hair curtaining his face. It was an odd, and highly erotic experience to have him on top of her, the two of them shrouded in privacy as his beautiful platinum hair draped around their faces. It was an errogeneous zone for him she had learned. He loved it when she stroked his hair and massaged his scalp with her nails. His ears were incredibly sensitive. He would shudder and moan when she stroked them and applied gentle pressure to the lobes. She was not only learning his body but teaching him more about it as well. 

“How long have you been watching me?” he asked as he raised his head and caught her staring at him with a soft smile on her lips.

“Since you got out of the shower,” she answered, her voice husky from sleep.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked crossing the room to his bureau where he donned his watch and smoothed his hair in the mirror.

“I wanted to watch you dress,” she said softly. “It’s almost as arousing as watching you undress.” She chuckled when he scowled at her in the mirror. 

“You are a strange witch, Hermione,” he said shaking his head. 

“Hmmmm…I suppose I am,” she said, stretching languorously all the while watching his reaction in his reflection. She saw his eyes widen and his nostrils flare and knew that he wasn’t unmoved by the sight of her body arching beneath the sheet that barely covered her. She made certain to stretch just enough that one pert breast popped free of the cotton shroud, the cherry nipple pebbled and straining for attention. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

“I have meetings today,” he said as he stopped at the bedside and stared down at her. She was lying on her back, her arms stretched above her head with one creamy, round breast bared and taunting him. He fought to keep himself from reaching out to trace the outline of the nipple, to feel the resilient flesh beneath his palm.

“I was thinking I might go shopping today, if that’s alright with you,” she said, wetting her lips to tease him more.

“Of course, you have full account access,” he said, his voice deeper and raspier than before. 

“Perhaps you will have time to join me?” 

“Join you for what?” His mouth watered for a taste of her.

“Lunch…shopping…a little bit of time for just the two of us,” she suggested.

“Ladies shopping?” he searched the recesses of his mind trying to recall a single instance when he had been in a ladies boutique. He came up with nothing.

“Perhaps a lingerie store, you can help me pick out something you might like,” she teased in a sultry tone.

“Shouldn’t you be picking things that you like?”

“Yes…but if you like it, then chances are I will like the end result…both of us will,” she smiled.

“I don’t know how comfortable I am going into a ladies underwear shop,” he said.

“The boutique I was thinking of caters to men as well as women,” she said softly. “Their clientele are extremely wealthy so everything is discreet and tasteful.”

“I think I will pass on this excursion, I have a lot of business to attend to today. Perhaps another time, though,” he said. He was trying to appease her without any intentions of ever going on a shopping trip with her.

“Perhaps,” she said softly. She could see what he was doing. It shouldn’t bother her but for some reason it did. She wanted him to _want_ to spend time with her. “Maybe I will see you later then?”

“If you like, I will be in my study for most of the day meeting with associates,” he said, still eyeing the delectable bud of her nipple where it sat enticingly upon the shimmying mound of her breast.

“You can touch me if you want to,” she said quietly. “Anytime you want to.”

“I..uh…I don’t think we should start something…I have an early appointment scheduled,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Alright, Lucius….later perhaps,” she smirked.

“Yes…later….enjoy your shopping,” he said. He cleared his throat and stood, with one last longing look at her breast he turned and exited their bedchamber.

“What am I going to do with you, Lucius?” she muttered with a shake of her head. She sighed as rolled back onto her stomach to catch a few hours more sleep, pleased to find that the bed still smelled pleasantly of her husband.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Afternoon Break

Lucius sat behind his desk looking over the proposal in front of him while the two men across from him tried to justify their position. He wasn’t all that impressed with their idea to be honest, but their father was one of the wealthiest and most revered wizards in England so he felt it necessary to hear them out. He doubted that they would be very successful with their current slapped together proposal, but, he could always alter that, improve it for the sake of a powerful connection.

“It’s an interesting idea, gentleman, but the proposal needs a lot of work. The numbers don’t add up and the research was poorly done,” Lucius said as he shuffled the documents back into some semblance of order. He looked up to see the fallen faces of the young men. And directly behind them he saw his wife leaning against the doorframe, a black bag emblazoned with a silver witch dangling from her fingers.

“Does that mean you can’t help us?” One of the young men asked, disappointment evident in his tone.

“I didn’t say that,” Lucius said. He was feeling the heat rising in his gut at the sight of her. His reactions to his unorthodox little bride were disconcerting and entirely un-welcomed at that moment. He was in a business meeting for Merlin’s sake! “I will send your proposal to Draco. He will look it over, have his team put together the proper research, rework the numbers and then we will see what we can do about getting your business off the ground.”

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to utter that little spiel because his cock was rising to attention beneath his desk at a rapid and rather uncomfortable rate. His wife was leaning against the doorframe, her fingers slowly stroking the line of cleavage revealed by the low-cut dress she wore.

“Mr. Malfoy, sir, I…we don’t know what to say!” the elder of the brothers exclaimed excitedly as he grinned from ear to ear. 

“What is there to say?” Lucius commented arrogantly. His wife was tugging aside the loose fabric of the wrap style dress and revealing little bits of coral colored lace. 

“There are NO words, sir, we cannot thank you enough for your help!”

“No…no, you can’t,” he said. He licked his lips as her fingers slid into the folds of her skirt. He could tell that she was touching herself by the motion of her hand. The soft little smile on her lips and flutter of her lashes indicated her pleasure.

“Well, we should let you get back to your day,” the younger, quieter brother said as he gathered up his satchel. The men were oblivious to the woman behind them boldly stroking herself beneath her skirt. 

“Yes…my day,” Lucius said distractedly. As the men stood his wife withdrew her hand and with a saucy grin began walking towards him, stroking her bottom lip with the fingers that had been buried beneath her skirt. 

“Hello, Darling,” she said softly. She rounded his desk, her lips shimmering as she bent down and pressed the glossy flesh against his. He nearly groaned at the feel of her, the musky scent of her overwhelming his senses as her kiss lingered. When she finally pulled away her lips were matte and no longer shiny. He ran his tongue over his lips and wondered at the unique, slightly sweet flavor that clung to them. “I apologize for interrupting your business, boys,” she said to the young men. “I just returned from shopping and wanted to assure my husband that he was still obscenely wealthy despite my splurging.”

“Oh…we were just finishing up, Madame Malfoy,” the younger brother said, his cheeks flushing as he caught the logo on her bag. “We were just leaving.” The older brother didn’t try to hide his smirk or the slow perusal of her figure. Hermione noted it, and unbeknownst to her, so did Lucius and he wasn’t too keen on other men ogling his wife.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” She said politely with a highly arched brow that let both young men know that she had seen their not so subtle examination. 

“Um…y-yes…pleasure to meet you as well,” the younger one stammered, his cheeks flushing profusely.

“Draco should be in touch soon,” Lucius said, his eyes narrowed and his words clipped and tight. “Good bye, Gentleman.” His obvious dismissal amused Hermione, but the men took it for what it was, a very real threat from a man who was more than dangerous if crossed. They skittered nervously and hurried out the door so fast that it was a wonder their shoes didn’t leave skid marks on the expensive wooden floors.

“Well, they seem like very nice young men,” she taunted, schooling her features as she turned to face her husband.

“Cocky little upstarts are what they are,” he muttered, still frowning at the door in which the two men had exited. “But their father is rich and powerful, so I tolerate them. For now.”

“Hmm, handsome young men,” she said. She fought the smirk that threatened to give her away when her husband’s hand tightened on his quill almost to the point of breaking it. “Will they be coming in often?”

“NO! They will be meeting with Draco from now on. In his office,” he said tightly as he snapped the file in front of him closed.

“Too bad,” she sighed. She sat on the edge of his desk and without thinking about it she reached out to smooth the silky platinum strands of his hair. He started and peered up at her quizzically. 

“Did you need something more than to reassure me about the contents of my vault? I know that I need not be worried, if you had done any real damage the goblins would have contacted me,” he said.

“Somehow I don’t think you would notice if I spent a small fortune,” she smirked as she reached for the lapel of his jacket and tugged him forward, parting her knees to make a space for him between them. “You do, after all, have such a large fortune.”

“You find that attractive, I suppose?” He asked, swallowing hard as the scent of her caused his body temperature to rise.

“No, not particularly, but luckily enough I find you attractive,” she purred softly. “I see this as rather fortuitous for us both given the circumstances of our marriage.”

“So if you didn’t spend a small fortune, whatever that means, then what did you stop by for?” He wanted to touch her but was afraid to. It was the middle of the afternoon and he still had business to conduct. Granted he had a little bit of time before his next appointment but a little bit of time never seemed to be enough when it came to servicing his witch. Not that she was difficult to please, he just wanted to please her again and again and again. Her response was addictive and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“I wanted to show you what I bought,” she teased as she reached for the black bag she had left lying on the desk beside her. “I bought them for you, after all.” She let go of his lapels but hooked her ankles behind his knees to insure that his prudish tendencies did not drive him to put ‘proper’ distance between them. She reached into the sea of scented tissue paper and withdrew a scrap of black lace and turquoise ribbon that she held up between them. “What do you think?”

Lucius pondered the very brief garment for a moment before he spoke. “I think I prefer shorts…or nothing at all,” he said, his brow furrowed in confusion. Hermione’s grin at his dry witticism had his lips twitching but he maintained his proper façade instead 

“Very funny, Mister Malfoy,” she chuckled softly. “I bought them to wear for you. To be quickly removed by you,” she said. Her voice had deepened in the throaty, husky tone that sent shivers of heat racing down his spine and forward through the length of his erection.

“So you purchased garments to be donned simply for removal?” he asked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. His wife reached up and looped the scrap of lace around his neck, using it as a leash to tug him forward.

“Something like that,” she whispered against his lips. “But right now I am wearing nothing beneath this dress.”

“Hermione,” he croaked her name, his hands slapping onto the desk on either side of her.

“What?” she breathed as she tickled his lips with her tongue.

“Please…I—I have work and it’s the middle of the day,” he fairly whimpered as she began nibbling on his bottom lip. She worked her lips down over his chin, biting gently before she started in on the sensitive flesh of his throat. “It’s unfair of you to make me want you when I can’t have you.”

“You can have me, Lucius,” she said against his pulse as her fingers began loosening the top buttons on his shirt.

“It’s not right to take you on my desk in the afternoon, not proper or respectful…oh gods have mercy,” he closed his eyes and his fingers dug into the surface of the desk as he fought to resist his saucy wife’s ministrations.

“I’m your wife, Lucius,” she said, sliding her hand down the front of his waistcoat to the greatly tented material of his trouser-front. She squeezed him through the material and he hissed, his pulse pounding against her lips. “You can take me anywhere, any time that you want me.”

“But it wouldn’t…”

“Fuck propriety,” she said hotly against his ear before sinking her teeth lightly into his lobe. “If you want me…take me.” 

He pulled back for a moment and met her gaze. Her eyes were dark like aged bourbon, shining with desire and a genuine passion for him. How was he supposed to resist that? He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue quickly spearing into her mouth to find and mate with hers. She moaned loudly into the kiss, her thighs sliding higher and her legs wrapping firmly around his waist. Her hands clenched against his ribcage where they had wandered and she struggled for closer, harder contact between his cock and her mound.

“No!” he growled, wrenching his mouth from hers. She cried out in protest, fighting to bring his lips back to hers. “Not on the desk…” he panted. “Our room…”

“No…I want you to take me here in your office,” she said, wriggling against him. “The sofa then.” He glanced over at the conversation area in front of the hearth that boasted a finely crafted black velvet sofa. It looked soft, decadent and perfect for taking his wife. 

“Yes,” he said tightly as he slid his hands beneath her bottom and hoisted her against him. She squealed in surprise, her legs tightening around his waist as her arms came up to loop around his neck. He saw her eyes widen as he carried her, the soft smile lifting the corner of her mouth. He was out of control and she obviously loved every minute of it. He tried to be careful as he rounded the sofa but swore as he banged his knee on the tea table in front of it. What he intended to be a gentle placement of his bride onto the velvet covered cushions turned into an awkward body slam with him still pressed tight against her.

Hermione was laughing as they bounced and the clawed feet of the sofa scraped against the floor. She released him from her leg lock at his waist and began scrambling to bunch her dress around her waist, wriggling her bare bottom against the soft, sensual velvet.

“I don’t have much time to do this right,” he murmured as he knelt between her thighs and hastily unfastened his trousers. 

“You don’t necessarily need a lot of time to do it right, Lucius,” she said. She gasped when he shoved the trousers down over his hips and the ruddy length of his erection bobbed eagerly in front of her. He braced one hand on the rolled arm behind her head and reached between them with the other, his fingers gently parting her and dipping between the folds to test her readiness. 

“When you kissed me…this is what I tasted…” he said hoarsely as he stroked the hot, slick flesh of her core. 

“How was it?” she asked with a sassy lift of her brow.

“Different than I expected….sweet….musky…” He trailed off, distracted by the feel of her wrapped around his fingers. 

“We’ll revisit the taste more in depth later,” she said as she reached for his hips and pulled him forward. “Right now I need you inside me.” 

He let his weight carry him forward; one hand braced on the arm of the sofa the other along the ornately carved back. He whimpered the moment her silky heat enveloped the weeping tip of his cock. It was always that way. The minute he sank inside her he was overcome with what he had concluded was gratitude. He was so thankful for the right to pierce her flesh so intimately, to nest inside the comforting heat of her body and for the pleasure he knew he would receive without fail from the generous, passionate creature beneath him.

Once he was seated fully inside her he closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of completion that washed over him. “Lucius?” He opened his eyes at the sound of his name and looked into her eyes. He suddenly couldn’t breathe; it was as if he had taken a direct blow to the chest. He didn’t understand any of the emotions or the raw vulnerability that threatened to paralyze him. Luckily her words broke through the fog before he went under. “Hard and fast, Lucius….now….please!”

Fear of the strange emotions swirling inside him and the need to assuage the hunger burning in his loins blended together as he braced himself over his wife and began moving inside her. Hot, tight, slick flesh clung to him as he worked his length in and out of the witch panting beneath him. He reveled in the pleasure of it, of the burning ache in his lower back and thighs from the exertion. The sofa rocked, shifting and scraping against the floor with their motions. He was sweating, his shirt clinging to his damp back. He had never been so rough with her or felt so utterly selfish before but confusion and lust were riding him as hard as he was riding her.

For a moment he thought for certain that he must be hurting her, despite the panting, passionate cries of more, harder, please. He started to reign in his reactions but felt the sharp bite of her nails into his buttocks and an almost inhuman growl of “Don’t you dare stop now!” in his ear. So he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the lust, over to her and let his basest mating instincts drive him. Over and over he slammed into his wife, thrusting deep and true with every stroke until the witch screamed and arched beneath him. Her slippery channel threatened to strangle the life out of his cock when she began to pulse around him. 

He followed within moments, throwing his head back and roaring his pleasure as he thrust as deep as humanly possible and came hard against the mouth of her womb. He mentally wished for a child to take root, not because of the cursed marriage terms but out of a genuine desire to father a child on his young wife. That thought also found itself added to the ever growing list of confusion that he swore he would ponder at a later date. 

He fell heavily against her. With Narcissa he wouldn’t have dared to rest his weight on her in such a way, but he had come to learn that Hermione felt differently and welcomed the burden of his passion fatigued body on her own. As always he felt her welcoming embrace and the gentle stroke of her fingers as she pushed his hair from his face. He withdrew and reached down to tug his trousers into place before nestling against her, his cheek resting on the soft swell of her breasts.

“Now I am sleepy,” he said his voice rough and sluggish.

“Mmmm, you can take a little nap, I won’t let you sleep long,” she said softly as she stared at the top of his head. She knew he was conflicted about what was building between them and she felt a little sorry for him. But she vowed to find a way to merge the two sides of Lucius, the passionate lover and the proper wizard, into one glorious man that she hoped to one day fall in love with; something that she hadn’t thought possible at first, but now she wasn’t so certain.

She heard a soft sigh and felt him relax, the soft warmth of his breath blowing across her chest. She smiled, tightened her arms around his shoulders and held him close.

@@@@@@@@@@@

He should be waiting for us.”

“Well, it isn’t as if he wasn’t expecting us. Where on earth could he be?” 

Lucius groaned at the sound of voices interrupting his nap. He opened his eyes and stared at the empty fireplace and then slowly let his gaze travel to the face of the woman cradling him so sweetly against her breast. He shook her gently and she slowly opened her eyes, a smile creeping onto her lips.

“Hello, Lover,” she whispered, touching his cheek softly.

“We have guests,” he said with a frown as warmth settled low in his belly at her intimate touch.

“Oh!” she said in surprise, leaning up to peer over the back of the sofa. “Oh, it’s only Severus and Draco,” she said casually and not at all softly. He sat up, reluctantly, his back protesting as he got to his feet and extended his hand to help her up. She smiled and winked at him as she stood, the folds of her dress falling around her to cover her exposed nether regions. 

Lucius’s cheeks flushed slightly when their intruders caught sight of the two of them. Hermione, however, showed no signs of being at all embarrassed at being caught in flagrante as she boldly walked around the sofa to greet their visitors. 

“Hello, Gentleman,” she smiled as Lucius came to stand beside her. Draco gave her the expected smug grin she had grown accustomed to while Snape stared at them quizzically.

“Hello, Granger, busy as always I see,” Draco chuckled. “Interesting choice of neckwear, Father.” Lucius’s brow furrowed as he looked down to see a tiny turquoise bow attached to black lace dangling from around his neck.

“Oh! Those are mine,” Hermione said un-repentantly as she reached up to remove her knickers from her husband’s neck. “I’ll just leave you boys to your business then,” she said, the panties dangling boldly from her fingertips. “It’s good to see you, Severus,” she said softly as she reached up and kissed his cheek as she passed. “Please stay for dinner, and Ferret…behave yourself, we have company.” She winked at him with a big grin on her face as she sauntered out of the room.

“She kissed me,” Snape said incredulously.

“I wouldn’t get too excited, “Draco said. “From the look on his face and his rumpled clothing I would be concerned about where her mouth had been.”

“If you don’t mind I would like to conduct business, not be subjected to ridicule for having a nap with my wife,” Lucius said as he walked away and took a seat at his desk. “Now…remind me what we were meeting about, it seems to have slipped my mind.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Instruction

It was late when Lucius found his way to the large chamber he shared with his wife. He had gotten used to having her there which surprised him. He had never considered sharing his room with a spouse. It was rather pleasant to sleep beside someone at night, to feel their warmth and the comfort of their touch. He found himself looking forward to sliding into bed beside his soft, warm wife, he even looked forward to having her sprawl all over him despite the wide expanse of their custom made bed.

When he opened the doors and stepped inside the candles were flickering low in the wall sconces, casting the room in a soft glow. The door to the en suite bathing chamber was open and the soft scent of citrus wafted from within. 

“Hermione?” He called her name as he removed his jacket and waistcoat and tossed them over the back of a nearby chair.

“Hello, Lucius,” she said as she walked out of the bathroom. She was wrapped in a fluffy white towel and using another one to squeeze the water out of her long curls. “I figured you were going to be playing chess with Severus well into the wee hours of the morning.”

“He has appointments with parents in the morning,” he said, watching as she walked across the room to the chaise settled beneath the tall windows. Along the way she stopped and gathered a bottle of skin cream from the bedside table before settling onto the plush velvet cushions.

“Well, I am sorry that I didn’t stay to see him off,” she said, smiling up at him. “Aren’t you going to change for bed?” He felt a bit foolish staring at her as he was. He had forgotten his purpose while watching her do something so simple as dry her hair. He was a besotted fool. 

Hermione hid her smile as she placed her foot onto the chaise and reached for the bottle of cream. With her peripherals she watched him slide his feet out of his shoes, leaving them neatly on the floor in front of his bureau. As she began to massage the cream into her legs she became entranced watching him remove his cufflinks and wristwatch, carefully placing them on a silver tray. His tie followed, and then the shirt until he was wearing only his trousers and a white sleeveless undershirt. 

“You have amazing shoulders,” she said softly. He turned to face her and had to reach back and brace his hands on the bureau. She had one leg drawn up, her hands slowly smoothing the lotion on her skin. She wasn’t doing it deliberately, but the sight of her like that, her hair wet, her skin shiny and pink from her shower, it was arousing. “I never dreamed that under all of your fancy clothes that you were so…fit.”

“I enjoy physical exercise,” he said hoarsely. Her towel was gaping open and he could see into the shadowed delta between her legs. “Hermione…your towel…”

She looked down, saw the open flap of her towel and looked back up at him. He was staring, his eyes narrowed and dark. The imp inside her stirred to life and instead of fixing the towel she removed it and laid back on the chaise, leaning against the wall as she brought her other foot up to the cushion and let her thighs fall open.

“Look all you like, Lucius,” she said softly, relaxing as she revealed herself to him. He swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing slightly as he stared at his wife. He didn’t know why he felt the little twinges of embarrassment; she was, after all, his wife so he was entitled to full access to her body. The gentleman in him, however, seemed to take some offense at openly gawking at her nakedness. Not that it fazed the little witch, she seemed to glory in the power she held over him. “Come closer,” she said huskily as crooked her finger at him. 

He wasn’t capable of refusing and found himself moving slowly forward until he was standing in front of her staring down at her blatant nudity. He could smell the light scent of her lotion laced with the increasing musk of aroused woman.

“Kneel,” she ordered softly. He slowly went to his knees in front of her, settling onto the plush rug covering the floor.

He was absolutely mesmerized by what he saw. Up close and personal it was like looking at the petals of a rare orchid unfurling before his eyes. Soft curls crowned her mound but the ivory lips of her sex were smooth and parted slightly to reveal dark pink flesh flushing further as her arousal grew. He could see the tip of the tiny nubbin that was the center of her pleasure peeking from the top of her slit, beckoning him to touch her and take her to paradise. 

"Touch me," she said softly, running her tongue over her lips as her eyes glazed over with passion. He mimicked her action, wetting his lips as he reached out with a gentle finger to run it down the center of her vulva. She jerked slightly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she braced herself against the soft. "More," she instructed hoarsely. 

"Like this?" he asked. He brought his other hand in to the play and used his fingers to part the plump petals. The little nub was swollen, flushed with blood and begging for attention. He gently touched the slick skin around it, running his finger tip up one side, around the top of her clit and then down the other to the small opening greedily clenching as if trying to capture his finger. That little opening wept, wetting the tip of his finger as he circled its slippery and sensitive circumference. He trailed his finger back up and flicked gently at the firm little protrusion of her clit. She whimpered and her thighs began to quiver, a sign he had come to recognize from her that she was extremely aroused.

"Use your mouth," she said hoarsely, her body strung tight like a bow and demanding release.

"How?" he asked, mesmerized by the reaction, by the visual of her arousal rising. He clasped her clit between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it gently and causing her to scream softly and buck against his hand.

"You really can’t do it wrong...lick me, suck me, use your tongue....please," she whimpered, her muscles aching from holding herself so stiff. He was unintentionally torturing her and it was so damned good! But she was having a hard time controlling herself. She wanted him to ease into it, to get a feel for it, to like it so he would want to do it again, but she was having a difficult time fighting the urge to push him down, straddle his head and ride his tongue to ultimate bliss.

He licked his lips and leaned forward, replacing his fingers with his tongue. He took one long, slow swipe over her hot, pulsing flesh, savoring the salty tang of her essence on his tongue. If he had any hesitation about stopping her reaction knocked it out of his head, it also could have knocked his teeth out had he not backed off. The witch bucked so hard and cried out so shrilly that it startled him, and encouraged him to continue. With a soft grunt of satisfaction he grabbed her thighs and literally dove in to the task at hand. Hermione stared down at the top of his head in shock and then moaned in appreciation when he began to lick her pussy with unrivaled enthusiasm.

She once more counted herself as a very lucky witch because Lucius was a natural cunninglinguist. His tongue was long and rough and it was everywhere! She tried to wriggle beneath his onslaught but felt him growl against her clit and tighten his grip on her thighs as he tongued her mercilessly. It was incredible! His tongue licked her flesh in long heated strokes, tickled her clit, tapped and lashed at the bud, taking her to the edge before dipping into her, rimming her excited opening and fucking into her as deep as he could manage. She was going to die if she didn’t come soon! The wizard currently eating greedily at her sex and making guttural sounds of appreciation was actually going to kill her! This time far more pleasantly than his previous attempts!

"Lucius!" she cried his name and nearly came off of the chaise despite his grip when he fastened his mouth over her and sucked, hard! She literally saw starbursts as the orgasm crashed into her. She had never come so hard in her life. In that one, beautiful moment she was both elated and exhausted beyond comprehension. Her body drew so tight that she was afraid something was going to snap and then in an instant it uncoiled and flung her into oblivion. Tears leaked from beneath her tightly clenched lids as the pleasure pulsed through her, shook her and turned her completely inside out.

He felt out of control, drunk on the taste of her, on the power he held over her as he pleasured her. He had never felt so powerful as he did when he brought his young bride to orgasm. He felt her come apart, bucking and grinding against his mouth in her release. He heard her scream, felt her hands pulling roughly at his hair as she pulsed against his mouth. She relaxed completely, going limp and groaning softly, her body twitching with the aftershocks of her pleasure and still he licked at her quim until she pushed him away.

"No more," she whimpered. He raised his head and she was stunned by the feral look in his eyes. In an instant the walls of her vagina clenched with demand. She was weak and dumb with pleasure but her body wasn’t going to be sated until she had him buried deep inside her. "Fuck me, Lucius," she breathed huskily. He wasn’t about to waste the time it would take to ask if she was sure or to protest the propriety. He reached down and quickly unfastened his trousers, shoving his clothing out of his way. He jerked her forward, her legs draped over his arms and her bottom precariously positioned on the edge of the chaise. 

He was more than ready for her, grasping his cock at the thick base he rubbed her glistening flesh with the tip and lined it up with her still clasping entrance. Scalding heat bathed his crown and with a rough gasp he thrust forward, impaling her on his erection. He was mindless as he thrust into her, their bodies slapping together, his concern and propriety lost in a lust induced fog. He rode her mercilessly, concerned only with the release he knew he could find in her tight, quivering sheathe. Over and over he slid the length of his cock through her receptive flesh, driven by the taste of her lingering on his tongue, the sound of her passionate cries and the encouragement of her grip on his forearms. 

"Now, Lucius, come inside me, I want you to feel you filling me," she pleaded, her body primed for another fierce orgasm. The sound he made bordered on a sob as he thrust high and deep, holding himself still as hot, sticky spurts of semen shot from his cock. He felt the heat of it bathing his sensitive head, the copious offering flowing back over him as he filled her. She pulsed around him, her vagina convulsing around his shaft and greedily milking every drop of semen from him. Somehow he had missed her release, selfishly lost in his own pleasure. He fell forward, weakness burning in his limbs. His head was swimming and he could hear the blood rushing in his head as he rested his cheek against her pounding heart. He was defeated, body and soul; that was his last thought before blackness claimed him.


	9. Chapter 9

****

**Chapter 9: The Least Likely Conclusion**

_Six months after the marriage of Lucius and Hermione_

Fundraisers were boring. Lucius hated fundraisers. He felt like prey, hell, he _was_ prey. He knew he wasn’t invited for the sheer pleasure of his presence. Oh, he was pleasant enough but his wife pointed out, in a not so delicate way, that despite his social pleasantness he wasn’t as adept at disguising his derision as he believed. Apparently almost everything he said was laced with a snide undertone that was offending and discomfiting fellow guests. No, he wasn’t under any illusions that he had been inviting simply because he was wealthy, and for other, more political, reasons. The Ministry wanted them to be seen, wanted to flaunt their success in matching the two of them. 

“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” a familiar voice shrilled from his left. He turned his head and stared down his nose at the round little abomination of pink tweed at his side.

“Ah, Madame Umbridge,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. Hermione would have given him a sharp nudge to the ribs with her elbow had he been speaking to anyone else but he suspected she would encourage him in this instance.

“Your….wife….is quite the social butterfly,” she said with a distinct disgust that curled her nose. 

“She enjoys fundraisers and donating my galleons to various causes,” he said, his brow furrowed. Umbridge hated his wife and made no secret about it.

“No doubt she gets a thrill out of it. An opportunity for vengeance on a pure blood,” she snorted.

“No, my wife is not a vengeful creature usually, she doesn’t donate extravagantly and always speaks with me beforehand. She simply enjoys helping a worthy cause,” he said, defending his young bride. 

“My word! You are smitten with the girl!” Umbridge said with clear surprise and horror raising her voice yet another annoying octave. Lucius look across the room at the witch in question. She looked lovely in the simple brown dress and heels. It hugged her curves and flattered her coloring, bringing out the flush in her cheeks. She was speaking with a couple he recognized but couldn’t quite recall their name. As if she felt his eyes on her she turned her head in his direction and a soft smile lifted her lips. A genuine affectionate smile that was just for him. 

She excused herself and came towards him, still smiling as she took her place at his side, sliding one arm around his waist and leaning in to him. It was an improper display of intimacy in a public venue, at least for a man of Lucius’s background, but he was so mesmerized by her easy affection and the glow of happiness that radiated from her when she saw him that he couldn’t bring himself to step away.

“Good evening, Umbridge,” Hermione said. Her voice was sickeningly sweet and fairly dripping with venom. And he could have sworn that she said “Um _bitch_ ” instead of Umbridge. 

“Ms. Granger,” came the snide response.

“Actually, It’s Mrs. Malfoy now, but you knew that I am certain,” Hermione said. “Lucius, Darling, I am getting a bit sleepy, I think that I am ready to go home now,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Of course, I will get our cloaks,” he said quietly, enjoying the feel of her at his side. “Madame Umbridge, I hope you will enjoy your evening.”

“You appear rather content for a man forced to wed a woman he doesn’t love,” she said sharply. “Have a nice night.” She snapped before turning and waddling away in her low heeled pink shoes.

“Ugh, I loathe her!” Hermione said through gritted teeth. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Lucius asked softly. They hadn’t told anyone yet, but they had fulfilled their marriage contract. Hermione was carrying his child. 

“I’m fine, just sleepy, Lucius,” she said, smiling softly. “It’s perfectly normal.” 

He seemed appeased for the moment and went to collect their cloaks. He had been fussing over her like an old mother hen since they discovered her pregnancy. It was sweet, but annoying as well. Within moments her husband returned with their cloaks they were off for home.

****

***********************

It was well before sunrise when Lucius began his slow climb from slumber. The moon still shone brightly in the sky and his entire household remained abed. All was silent aside from the steady _tick-tock_ of the clock on the mantle and the steady breathing of the witch slumbering beside him. With his eyes closed he breathed deeply, capturing the soft, citrusy scent of her shampoo and the light fragrance of the lotion she applied to her skin every night before she went to bed. Somehow in the six months since they had wed he had come to associate these scents with comfort, with _home_. Hermione had somehow become his touchstone; she was his gateway to a new life, a guiding light out of a dark and disturbing past. 

She had done what many had tried to do in the past and failed. With relentless determination she had wriggled beneath his skin and dug in, rooting herself in his life and in his very soul so deeply that she could not be removed. With her generous spirit and her endless passion she had taught him to feel, she had taught him to give, how to find personal satisfaction in pleasing another. She had taught him that bloodlines really didn’t matter and that even the worst offenses can be forgiven if one learns from their mistakes. 

In her he had found peace, comfort and a passion beyond his wildest imagination. He also found vulnerability. A woman who he would die for, a _feeling_ so incredible that he would fight for it with everything he had. She taught him the errors of his past better than prison, probation, or any torture he had underwent at the hands of the Dark Lord ever could have. He would gladly kneel at the feet of the little witch and give her the moon and the stars if she so desired. He was putty in her soft and generous hands.

She whimpered softly in her sleep and shifted towards him, snuggling against him with her back to his front, as if she somehow sensed that he was awake and musing. He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight, burying his face in her hair. Her body heat seeped into him, warming him as he clutched her close. His body stirred and she responded by arching her bottom against his growing erection, a soft, sleepy moan disrupting the silence. Her hand covered his where it rested against her stomach and pushed it lower. She raised one leg, giving him access to the warmth between her thighs.

Her flesh was warm, swollen and moist as his fingers delved into the folds of her sex, exploring gently and thoroughly as her breathing turned ragged.   
It was no longer necessary for them to ‘engage’ in order to meet the requirements of their marriage contract, but it didn’t matter. A side effect that the ministry hadn’t foreseen was that they would develop a genuine desire for one another. No one could have foreseen the eventual outcome of the pairing, in a million years no one could have predicted the reality of the Malfoy’s marriage. They were… _happy_. 

Happy was an understatement for the feelings racing through Lucius’s body as he shifted into a better position behind his wife. He slid his knee between her legs and with his leg bent he was able to support hers, holding her open for his touch. With deft fingers he manipulated her clit as he probed her opening with his cock. He couldn’t gain deep penetration at his current angle, but it didn’t matter. He just needed his wife. Something about the soft, sleepy warmth of her body and the pre-dawn ramblings of his mind had come together to create a desperate need to possess her. 

He moved gently, thrusting as deep as he could, never ceasing in the circling, tweaking motion of his fingers. Neither could claim that their release was earth shattering as the sun began to rise and gray the skies outside their windows. But it was comforting somehow, it was enough to ease the sleepy desires that had stirred and satisfy their need for connection. As they settled, their breathing returning to normal, their eyelids heavy as sleep came to claim them once more Lucius stroked the still flat surface of his wife’s stomach, where their secret rested, gently.

“It isn’t true,” he whispered softly against the back of her neck.

“Hmmm?” she questioned sleepily.

“What Umbridge said at the charity event—it isn’t true,” he said, his voice quiet and raspy. “I do.”

“ _Do_ what?” she asked, yawning and snuggling deeper beneath the covers and into Lucius’s warmth.

“I—love you. I _am_ happy…with you. It isn’t a beginning I would have chosen for us…but I do…I do love you,” he stammered, his cheeks heating and his heart racing as he waited. He couldn’t see the soft smile adorning her lips or feel the rush of intense heat that raced down her spine in response, instead she laid her hand on top of his and squeezed his fingers lightly.

“I know, Lucius,” she said softly. “I love you, too.” He relaxed behind her, his body going limp as his arm tightened around her. She nearly laughed at the relieved sigh that tickled her ear.

“You do?” he managed to croak.

“Of course I do, Darling,” she said quietly. “I never had any doubts that we would come to this in time.” Which wasn’t necessarily true but she wanted Lucius to believe that she had always had faith in his ability to be redeemed. She would never voice the doubts that had once plagued her. “Go back to sleep, it’s early yet for such a discussion.” 

“Alright then,” he whispered, brushing the softest of kisses against the back of her neck. For the first time in his life Lucius Malfoy drifted off to sleep a happy man, content with his life and the knowledge that he loved and was loved in return.

__

_Finite_

_AN: this may get revised at another point if my muse picks up again for it….._


End file.
